


My Heart Would Know

by Elodie (rubberbisquit), rubberbisquit



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, I'm not actually a fantasy writer and I don't write first person like ever, Kal is totally going to be the best wingman ever, Making Out In Public, Meet-Cute, POV First Person, Panic Attack, Shower Sex, adults making moderately irresponsible decisions while also considering the consequences, but here we are, dogs are the actual best, fantasy writers do it in strange new realms, gratuitous cuddling, sad feels, that hallway didn't deserve to see such things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 79,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27474205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberbisquit/pseuds/Elodie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberbisquit/pseuds/rubberbisquit
Summary: Hi.  I’m Liv.  I wrote a dumb fantasy book that no one read until some pretty British actor pimped it on his IG and now I’m here.  In Atlanta at Dragon Con on my very own panel with hundreds of people attending.  And one of them sounds suspiciously familiar.A meet cute set in 2018 in which a fresh fantasy author gets the chance to thank the man that helped launch her career.  Will include: ridiculous nerdery, some serious second hand embarrassment, and black eyes courtesy of America's Butt.  Will also feature some fluff, some sex, some sadness, and the unwavering belief that the laughter of nerds in love has a certain tonality that's toxic to serious business.
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 129
Kudos: 153





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Wanders in* This wasn’t supposed to happen again. I’m too old for this pretty boy bull shit but fuck I can’t get him out of my head and this little plot bunny has been floating around a few weeks already. I haven’t written RPF in literal decades so please be gentle. But firm. And have fun.

“Liv. Liv! Pay attention, we’ve still got to cover your afternoon schedule before you go on.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind I was paying attention to my publicist, Rachel, I swear. The part of my mind that wrote amazing fantasy books that paid for my trip to Dragon Con and made it so I could just not have a real job ever again. That part of my mind one hundred percent agreed that I should use those new blue uni-ball Jetstream pens because they were hella sexy and my hand didn’t cramp while autographing books for three hours.

That part of my mind was not in control at the moment, however.

Oh. _Oh no_.

The part of my brain that saw something ( _someone_ ) pretty and immediately ceased all normal function had just caught a glimpse of America’s Butt and was running the show. I followed the sight through the long halls in the service corridor of the Marriott Marquis and sighed dreamily. Fuck, his ass looked even better in person, at thirty feet, than any IMAX could possibly impress upon me. Just the way he walked, those long strides and every step with that flex. Whoo boy. 

“Liv! Hey, watch out-“

My view of the behind of one Chris Evans was cut tragically short by distraction as I ran head long into a stanchion. Several people around me gasped as I stumbled and then came to a dead standstill with shock. The perfect, pert ass reeled in my mind and I tried to get my head under control but both brains were having none of it. I slowly turned to Rachel, feeling as though I had really fucked up this time. I could feel the pain blossoming out from my right eye, where I’d caught the concrete corner.

Was I bleeding? My face felt damp; I was probably bleeding. Rachel looked shocked and horrified, one delicate hand reaching out to me like I was a drowning Victorian child and she an underappreciated and ill experienced nanny.

A masculine voice gave a shout as I tilted and it has always been my lot in life to make a scene. I’d been born into that drama and I still lived in it now. I couldn’t stand the concern on Rachel’s face and I thought to reassure her. I opened my mouth to tell her I’d be okay but unfortunately that was the moment my ego kicked back into gear. A pair of strong hands caught me under the arms as the world went black.

“Oh my god. Authors are the actual worst. How they function in their normal lives I will _never_ understand. What the actual fuck, Liv wake up! You’re going to be late.” 

There was a vicious shaking and the world went bright all at once. Bright then gray then the same sealed concrete color of all service corridors. I was laid out on my back, head pounding, with the relatively merciless feeling of embarrassment coursing through my very being. I really had just run into a post and knocked myself out. Because of a nice ass. 

“Rachel.” I reached a hand out for her, needing something solid. I was pretty sure I’d just given myself a fucking concussion. She took the appendage and leaned in. “Rachel. Did I-“ I had to take a breath and collect my thoughts.

“It’s okay. Take your time, Liv.”

With all the hollering about us being late I thought she’d just hall me to my feet, not console me like the delicate flower I knew I was. “Rachel. Did I just run into a post because I was salivating over Captain America’s Ass.” I closed my eyes again, conjuring the vision. I couldn’t have imagined it; it was so crisp and perfect in my memory.

Someone a few feet away let out a snort of laughter. A dog barked right next to the laugh. And Rachel sighed like the poor put upon publicist that she was. She slapped my hand away and stood before digging into my ribs with her shoe. The madwoman. “Hey, I’m injured down here.”

“Well, get the fuck up and you won’t be down there anymore.” She’d put her business pants back on and I groaned. No more sympathy. Concussion or not, she was right. I was going to be late. I didn't really want to be late since my continued success depended on my presence in all things.

Once upon a time I’d written a really nice and thoughtful letter to Neil Gaiman. I’d just devoured _American Gods_ and wanted that. I wanted that feeling of fulfillment and success. So I wrote him two thousand words, detailing my hopes and dreams and everything I’d ever wanted in a book. And I swore him to secrecy so he wouldn’t steal my ideas but asked for input. How could I get to where he was.

His response was short, but succinct. Just start writing and finish what you mean to. 

So I put pen to paper (sat in front of my laptop dumbly for almost two years) before I finally knocked out _Appellation Congruous_. It was a short fantasy novel about a world with time travel. I sold approximately five copies, all to people with the same last name as me or a direct relative and thought I was done. And then I wrote _The Vine Wars_ , a continuation of _Congruous_. It actually did fairly well, netting me the 99th spot on the NYT Best Seller list for one whole week.

Rachel came calling on the eight day and it took absolutely nothing for her to convince me I needed an editor and a bigger suitcase because I was going to be famous.

Famous was probably a stretch. Authors aren’t really _famous_ unless they write that great quintessential novel. I was moderately popular, I liked to think, through no fault of my own. I got a leg up in the race due to some serendipitous publicity thanks to a popular British actor. He ended up with a copy of _The Vine Wars_ , loved it, gave it a shout out on his socials and then suddenly here I was.

Sprawled out on a dirty floor in the bowels of one of Atlanta’s finest hotels.

My grandmother would literally be screaming with joy and embarrassment for me at this moment. As it was I got Rachel, no longer interested in my pain and talking to someone up the hall.

“Thank you so much for your help. She’s such a nuisance sometimes, constantly losing track of what’s going on.” I rolled to my knees and took a deep breath. Rachel was always apologizing for me. I constantly wondered why she hung around and then I remembered what I was paying her. 

A dog barked again and I whipped my head around trying to find the source. Everyone knew dogs were the absolute best and there was a tragic shortage in ATL. Alas, the hallway had cleared of everyone except the two of us and the poor page tasked with bringing me to my panel.

He hustled us to the conference room I’d be speaking in for the next hour and then gave us a wave as he almost ran off. I scoffed at his departure. “They need to pay those kids more.”

Rachel snapped her fingers in my face, which she knew I hated but responded to better than more attention getting actions. “Look at me. I swear, Liv. You need a PA. Someone that will literally follow you around and make sure you don’t kill yourself going about your day.” She held my chin and wiped at my face with a napkin.

I recoiled because I was not five but also, she did have a point. I did need a PA. “Is that something you can find for me or should I be on the lookout for a hunky nerd who’d like to moonlight as a babysitter?” I meant it jokingly but her growl was not amused. She finished with her ministrations and tutted. That was definitely Rachel-grunts for ‘good enough’ and I was okay for public consumption. A worker cracked the door, looking for me. The room behind her wasn’t large but it was packed. Not even standing room.

I gulped. I had a Master’s, so I was familiar with presenting in front of large crowds but it had never been my own fiction. It had been toponymic analytics in the UK versus Canada. I couldn’t-

Rachel grabbed my chin again. “Focus. You’ve got the panel, like two minutes ago, and then I’m going to feed you and then you’re signing from two to four and then drinks at 5 with the Netflix studio and- Liv! Focus!”

I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze before giving her a giant smile. “I got it, Rachel. Trust me.”

I fluffed my hair, squared my shoulders and headed into the room to a round of applause. Rachel called after me, her voice sounding tight, but I waved a hand at her vaguely letting her know I was okay. I had this.

\- ! - ! - ! - ! -

“And now, with the main discussion over we’re going to turn over the mic to the crowd to get some other questions going.”

I grinned before I took a sip of the water they’d given me. There was a whole table set up on the stage with seating for five but it was just me and the moderator all along up here. I almost felt like a CEO and I took my time to adjust my black silk blouse as an assistant reached someone with their hand up.

A young woman, gawky in her pubescence but shining with joy at being at _my_ panel, took the mic with a giggle. I beamed. I had been that awkward child once, excited about finally meeting the person that put thought to word and created a world to live within.

“Hey Liv. I’m Lakeisha. I want to say that your book save me. Like, actually save me. Furst and Ganno are like the ultimate OTP and their story is just so . . .” Her eyes widened with the realization that she’d gotten side tracked and I gave her a nod to continue. “Anyway, are they gonna end up back on the same plane in the next book?” She rushed the end of the question and sat down with a huff.

Shy and overly excited. Boy howdy did I feel that combo in my soul. “Well, hi Lakeisha. It’s nice to meet you and I’m really happy you enjoyed the book as much as you did-“ I went through my usual spiel, first with Lakeisha and then Kent and then Francis and then came Lisa.

Lisa looked older, wise. The type of woman who had few fucks and knew exactly when to use them. She held up an eye brow for the mic and gave the assistant a thankful nod when he handed it to her like she was the queen. I was entranced. Maybe Lisa was a queen. “I liked the book. It was a good sophomore effort and I’m looking forward to the next installments. What I’d really like to know is if you sent Henry Cavill a thank you note for the free publicity. If it wasn’t for him I definitely wouldn’t be here.”

Ah. Yes.

The popular British actor that had read my book. And liked it enough to put up a short video praising it on IG and FB. Rachel had been flabbergasted and still saw dollar signs every time I bumped on socials. I’d had to Google why that name had sounded familiar. I was quite pleasantly surprised to find that the Duke of Suffolk had liked my nerdy fiction.

“Ah. Yes. I also definitely wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for his support and I did send a fruit basket as thanks.” 

Rachel had thought I’d lost my ever loving mind when I’d demanded she send an edible fruit arrangement to his agent. She’d argued that it was an expensive waste when he’d never get it personally. I argued that you should always thank the person that helped launch your career. No one ever makes it in entertainment on their own, you know.

The crowd laughed with the response and I felt myself relax into my true comfort zone. We’d been at it for almost 45 minutes and by now I was reading my room well. And they liked me. They really really liked me.

A hand shot up in the back. I directed the aid to the arm and took a sip of water while I waited for the question. A hulk of a man stood, over six feet and bulky. My mouth went a little dry and I mentally urged him to take the cap off his head so I could get a good look at his face. “Um, hi. Yes.” The voice wasn’t as booming as the size of the man currently standing would suggest but he was definitely British and that always pleased me. I nodded and tilted my head, listening to his words carefully. “I wanted to ask about the Collegiate at the end of chapter seven.”

Oh Lord, one of _those_ fans. I grinned even harder as he paused to grab a worn copy of my book, _my book_ , out of his pocket to reference. “At the end of the chapter,” Fuck his voice was giving me fits. The accent sounded so familiar but it was off. Like, two steps left of the standard London accent and I was just at a loss. “You said that the Collegiate was bound by the Seventh Proclamation but then at the end of chapter nine, Furst successfully sacrifices part of their heart and I was wondering how they were able to when the Proclamation forbade fractures of that kind.”

My head reeled at the question and I actually sat back on my chair a little. This was the fifth panel/reading I’d done for _The Vine Wars_. I’d gotten countless letters over the last six months. The strange conversations I’d had at signings could have filled their own book. And yet no one had really picked up on that Easter Egg before. The man sat down and I immediately protested. “Oh. Oh no, sir. Remain standing because you’ve unlocked the meta.” I could see a grin under the cap and I knew I was about to blow someone’s mind.

But first. First I had my own questions. “I’m definitely going to answer your query hopefully within the next-“ I glanced at the clock and pouted. “Ten minutes but I gotta ask something first.”

I got a nod in response and I leaned forward. “Does anyone know what I got my degree in?” Someone in the audience shouted, “Linguistics!” and I nodded sagely. “Yes. Linguistics. Particularly English. Particularly the way the language developed and all the accents that come with it. Now, I want to show you all a party trick, if you’re amicable.” I’d done this trick at every panel and anyone that had seen any of my socials had seen it.

By now my intrigue with the tall, well accented stranger had piqued the interest of the people around him. I noted a few gasps as the stranger shook his head at them. “Sir, you have a unique accent. Can I guess where you’re from?”

“Eh, yeah? I guess.”

I grinned and stood, coming around to the front of the table. It was the end of the panel and I was feeling more relaxed. This was also part of my gimmick. I sat at the edge of the stage and made a fuss like I was settling in for a long questionnaire. Truthfully I already knew he was from one of three places in the UK but it wouldn’t help to give away the punch line immediately.

“How’s your RP?”

He stepped in to the main aisle so he could still see me. As he moved he held a hand out at his side, keeping his companion in their seat. The sheer size of him made my mouth dry; he was the very definition of defined. “It’s alright but it could be better.” He had a smoky received pronunciation, all soft vowels. It sent a shiver down my spine as his voice stroked over the words. 

This was probably my best party trick I’d done so far.

“How old were you when you went to study in London?”

The stranger tilted his head and smirked, his face still shadowed by that damned hat. “14.”

I nodded, my suspicions further confirmed. “Tu parles français?”

His, “Oui, je parle un peu français,” felt clipped, like it hadn’t quite found its pronunciation in the world yet.

“And, did you learn at home, in primary, or in boarding school?”

This made him pause before he gave me a full on grin, probably understanding what I was getting at. “I learned in Primary. It’s one of the languages spoken where I’m from.”

There had to people around him that knew who he was because there was a lot of tittering as I closed in on his birthplace. It really could only be one of two places and I only had the one last question. “What does your dad do for a living?”

The stranger chuckled and rolled his eyes skyward. “Finance.”

I clapped and throw my arms wide. “A Jersey boy! Bienvenue à Atlanta! I hope you enjoy your stay here.” The crowd roared along with me as my mysterious stranger kept the mic with his arms crossed. The giggling was reaching a peak and now I was growing confused. Everyone in the back the room was definitely watching my mysterious foreigner. Rachel scuttled up to the stage, her face pale but excited.

I blocked the mic and let her whisper into my ear fiercely, “It’s him! It’s Cavill.”

There was a particular rock that lived in my stomach that liked to drop at the most inopportune times. It chose this moment, when I turned startled eyes back to that smirk, to hit me right where it was the most uncomfortable. I shifted and took a deep breath “Alright. Well, now that the party trick is over and we have-“ I looked at the clock again and swore a little louder. “We have exactly four minutes I suppose I can tell you about the Breaking of the Proclamation.”

The air left the entire room as over a hundred people leaned forward to hear me speak. I kept the tone modulated and almost bored as I explained the rough outline for book three in the series. It definitely wasn't the answer Cavill probably wanted but it was the explanation Rachel and I had agreed on while I was still working on the book. Right on time, the panel was over and I thanked everyone for coming before I practically ran from the room.

I was alone with my thoughts for a blessed amount of silence in the hall. Fuck. Cavill had come to my panel and I was up there acting like I didn’t know who he was. Because _I didn’t_. I had a career because he cared but I hadn’t gone out of my way to check up on him. What possible publicity could I have given him? I had 5,000 followers on IG. He was like a god.

In fact, I felt like I remembered hearing he’d been playing Superman in the latest reboots.

Not like a god. An actual god. I didn’t know whether to cry with embarrassment or dance with joy because my party trick had gone over so well. Either way, what a hell of a panel. As expected from any woman my age who just had a brush with hotness, my hand reached for my phone and typed in his name.

Yup. There he was. I felt a little dumb that I hadn’t recognized him. Jesus that jaw line could cut a man. Or a woman. Specifically her thighs as he descended on her. Holy fuck he was hot and I’d only ever stared at the one IG post about my book dozens and dozens of times.  
I’d never looked farther. I hadn’t stalked. Stalking is _bad_. I wasn’t that kind of internet user.

But I should have stalked. Fuck I should have stalked.

The door swung open, depositing Rachel right in front of me as I pulled up a gif from the Superman shoot. The sweet and nerdy dude who’d boosted my book to the best seller list, who carried a worn copy in his back pocket for personal reference, was doing pull ups between scenes for muscle definition. My legs quivered at the sight.

Forget America’s Butt.

We didn’t have a god damn thing on The Thighs of Jersey. Holy fuck.

She could read the mounting panic on my face and took the time to pull the phone away. “Just remember, Liv. He’s just a nerdy dude and you owe him your career.”

“I- what? Rachel, _what_ -“

The door opened again and there he was in his muscled 6'1" glory. 

And he had a _dog_.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liv meets Henry and Kal and only makes a minor fool of herself. Like, five times.

Henry Cavill was a lot hotter than the internet would have me believe, even during my very truncated ninety second perusal of his Instagram. He had a blue plaid thrown over a black t-shirt bearing the logo to some band I’d never heard of. The combo was doing _all the things_ for his upper body while the jeans he wore should be outlawed. Some things were just unfair to subject the populace to, his thighs being one of them. Dark curls brushed his nape, tamed by that treacherous cap and his three day scruff was making my stomach feel funny.

It was the smile though, wide and just a confusing amount of _nervous_ that made me gulp. He looked hopeful, coming through that door like he desperately wanted access to my space.

Oddly, the large, fluffy dog that walked placidly at his owner’s side was a more pressing concern however. Things I always, at any given point in time, want to do when I see a dog: squeal with joy. Give endless pets. Sit on the floor and give them giant hugs.

Things one should never do with a dog one doesn’t know: any of those things.

Hand extended, he took the three steps forward to me. “Hi, I’m Henry. It’s so nice to meet you Ms. Orton. As you can guess, I’m a _huge_ fan. ”

He was a huge something, alright. His hand dwarfed mine when we shook and I was struck by how my palm just disappeared in his grip. Aristocratic hands, long fingered and deliberate, released me just in time for the dog to sit down. On my foot.

I glanced down and found deep brown eyes staring up at me. That was a doggo that wanted pets if I ever saw one. I risked a glance up at Henry, gaze tripping over the blue staring back at me, and quirked an eyebrow. “Is he friendly? Please tell me he’s friendly.” That got me a short laugh and I couldn’t help the delighted grin that blossomed on my face. At Henry’s nod I knelt and let Kal decide where our relationship was going.

A wet nose bumped me on the side of the head and I sank one hand slowly into the fur at his shoulder. I gave the pup a good few minutes of scratches and coo’d liberally. He really was a handsome fellow and I wasn’t ashamed to tell him. I’d gotten some good tail wags before I realized I’d been on the floor for a good five minutes and was making this weird.

Kal looked disappointed when I stood and I felt that feeling in my soul. I could definitely pet that dog for the rest of the afternoon.

Henry had a fond smile on his face and a laugh in his voice. “He likes you.”

“The feeling is exceptionally mutual. He is a very good dog friend.”

“That he is.” I gave him a grin at the fondness in his voice only to find his eyes glued to my face.

Which immediately began to redden under his perusal. 

Now he was making this weird. Perhaps we were both just super weird. “Thank you for your post. On Instagram I mean. I wasn’t lying when I said I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” He gave me a look now that was partially perplexed but definitely pleased. 

“Thanks for writing my favorite book of the year.” His grin was genuine. He kept my gaze even as Kal nudged my thigh wanting more pets. Those blue eyes felt like the horizon in Alberta: endless and deep. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and glanced down at Kal.

Once upon a time I got a notification on Instagram. And then another. And then what felt like five thousand more. I’d been working at the bakery at the time and couldn’t turn the buzzing off with my dirty hands. By the time I’d finished for the day Rachel had sent me screen shots of my sales on the major sites. Over a hundred thousand copies sold in an afternoon. _One Hundred Thousand._

I quit my job at closing time after I’d scrapped my mind off the ceiling.

Quitting had been majorly premature as it took my publisher almost a month to get me the royalties but I was suddenly four hundred _thousand_ dollars richer and it was all Henry Cavill’s fault. I jumped three social classes because of this wonderful specimen of a man.

In hindsight I should have given him a lot more than a fruit basket.

The dog at our side licked my palm and whined, nudging me forward. I laughed at he pushed me right into Henry. A large hand came up to grab my shoulder, keeping me steady and I was trapped again looking up at him. His cologne was subtle and spiced; it _melted_ that cold gap in my heart where I allowed hope to live. I could very easily never get anything done ever again in my entire life if I just stayed right here in this space. “Easy there. Don’t need you falling down again.”

“Again? What do you mean again?”

His fingers brushed over my right eyebrow which was still tender from my earlier run in with America’s Butt. The touch was soft but it still sent a shock down my spine, realizing he must have seen me walk into a pillar. Oh, well that was just fucking great. “Saw that, did you?”

“Saw it and caught you on the way down. Didn’t Rachel tell you?” Mentally, I pumped the brakes and stared at him dumbly while I processed my earlier traumatic experience. Someone had caught me. And there’d been a dog barking. But by the time I’d realized both those facts we were alone in the hall.

I turned to glare at Rachel. She was very obviously ignoring me in favor of staring at her phone. “No, she didn’t say anything about that.” I noticed another woman in the hall with us finally, giving Henry an impatient look. She looked like she could slay dragons: all black power suit and killer heels. Not a hair out of place on her head. I’d peg her as a girlfriend but she looked way too much like an irritated older sister. I leaned in to gauge her reaction to my presence in relation to Henry. A massive eye roll was my reward. Probably his assistant, than.

I let out the breath I’d been holding only to hear him take a sharp breath. I’d gotten far closer than I had intended to, my words disturbing the soft curls at his temple. “You’re just a regular knight in flannel armor, aren’t you?”

“Well I try.” We were both definitely making this weird and that delighted me. I knew why I was so awkward literally all the time. Could it be Mr. Tightpants was also an odd duck? He narrowed his eyes, remembering something. “You never answered my question. About the Seventh Proclamation.” There was a tease, a reprimand, in his tone and it delighted me.

Cheeky, this one. I took a step back, hands digging in my back pockets like a teenager with a secret. “Sure I did. In four minutes too, which is a new world record for me I think.”

Henry tsked at me with one finger before he crossed his arms over his chest. The gesture emphasized the muscle he had and I gulped once more. As though he could read my thoughts his smirk widened. “You didn’t though, you gave the same half-assed explanation you’ve been floating for the last three months. Which isn’t what I asked.”

“That is oddly specific and true.” I was a little blown away, honestly. It sounded like Henry Cavill had been watching my previous talks. I wondered if he’d known before the panel I always dissect someone’s accent towards the end. “That’s what I got, for right now. I wouldn’t want to spoil the book.”

His face fell and it broke my heart a little to see. He probably thought he could sweet talk the plot right out of me but I’d signed some stupid agreement not to ruin the punch line a long time ago. No matter how entrancing his eyes were, I couldn’t budge on that.

“I don’t mind spoilers, I swear.” He put a hand over his heart and give me a wink. “Not even the tiniest little bit? Just a nugget, really, would do.”

I blushed a bit under his teasing, which felt an awful lot like _flirting_ if I was honest. When I opened my mouth to respond I was cut short by two stern voices. Rachel, sensing I could possibly be swayed by a pair of pretty eyes, excused herself into the conversation at the same time Henry’s onlooker called his name.

A bubble had been burst around us and I blinked up at him. We were standing in the back hall at the Marquis Marriott and it was getting crowded as the next sets of panels were getting ready to start. Over his shoulder I saw the cast of Warehouse 13 step into the room we’d just vacated. I’d always had a crush on-

Kal bumped me again, his nose sharp in the back of one knee. Once more I stumbled forward a step but the magic was gone. Henry had turned away to address his assistant and I would have bit it on the concrete, _again¸_ if Rachel hadn’t steadied me. I glared first at the dog who panted up at me innocently. Ah, yes. Nothing to see there, obviously. I glared next at Rachel because honest to god, the hottest man I’d seen in an actual age was talking to me and _he liked my book_.

“You need to eat before your blood sugar drops and you start swearing in your interview. We can’t have another mess like that during this weekend.” I grumbled my ascent while absently rubbing my upper arm. She had a hell of a grip and a good point. Rachel usually did. I still had _obligations_ and a book to promote.

“Alright, I guess.” I wanted desperately to give Henry my number, to ask if he had plans. Ask if he’d like to maybe hang out. He’d seemed interested and I was a little bit tempted to spill secrets if he would-

I looked to him to see if he was still paying attention but he was deep in conversation with his assistant. I was apparently no longer an interest and the bright, shiny glee I’d been frolicking through for the last few minutes faded. “Yeah, okay. Food is good.” 

As though a man that attractive and popular would even contemplate spending time with the lowly author. What was I? Twelve? He’d liked the book. Clearly he hadn’t really liked me. 

It felt like I was on the wrong foot so I dropped to me knees to give Kal a couple more pets. He’d really tried his best and I would forever appreciate his fluffy face. He licked a long strip up my cheek and I laughed. “Kal, no. No licking.” It was the woman that spoke and I glanced at the pair to find amused eyes staring back. Henry was laughing at me. And his assistant was scowling.

That was my cue to beat it. “Well, Henry. Kal. It’s been a pleasure, both of you. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.” My smile was tight and Henry looked panicked as I turned to go. Rachel took hold of my arm once more and forced me down the hall. Henry’s assistant started up on a monologue about his afternoon schedule and he never told her to wait. To stop. So he could run me down and give me his number and then we could meet up at a swanky bar and-

“LIV! FOR FUCK’S SAKE WATCH OUT!”

  
Henry’s laughter reached me as I reacted in time to shoulder check the stanchion this time rather than taking it straight to the face. I ducked my head and practically ran back into the main lobby, burning with embarrassment the whole way.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

My phone buzzed and I resolutely ignored, as I had been since walking away from actual Hot Nerd ™ Henry Cavill earlier. I wasn’t going to stalk him. I wasn’t. That was rude and gave me wicked second hand embarrassment just thinking about it.

The silence in the washroom stretched out and I argued with my own blue eyes. 

I was a grown ass woman of 34. 

I’d had several long term and meaningful relationships and I knew my way around men. I’d had three actual careers, sort of. I owned property. I was the very definition of an adult as laid out by the generations before me. Except for the not being married and not having any kids _that I was aware of._

Sometimes I wished I wasn’t so fucking awkward.

My phone buzzed again and I pushed it away, picking the bottle of concealer back up. The make-up had little effect, the noticeable blue/red line running down half my face slightly greener than it’d been when I’d gotten out of the shower. 

I had definitely given myself a black eye staring after Captain America.

And had stared into the blue abyss of Henry Cavill’s gaze.

And . . . _fuck_. It just wasn’t fair.

I sighed, blowing a wayward strand of my hair away from my face. It was so fine that it was perpetually in an up do to keep it out of the way. Damp and curling pathetically at the moment, it was just a nuisance. I should shave my head. Maybe an undercut. Or bangs, at least.

I physically shook out my hands and took a calming breath. I didn’t need a haircut; I was just experiencing garden variety anxiety and embarrassment. My hair was fine. It just needed a blow dryer. My face would be fine, too, maybe. I just needed a different concealer. My make-up bag wasn’t so much a bag of effective beauty products as it was a container that housed products I stress bought every time I told myself I should learn Western Beauty Standards.

Make-up wasn’t my nemesis per say but I certainly didn’t know enough to fight the demon sitting on my face.

_I’d like to sit on Henry’s-_

I threw down the make-up brush as my thoughts ran rampant again. “Oh, for _fuck’s sake_. Rachel, help! I need an adult.” I moved back into my room where my publicist was sprawled on the spare bed, messing around with her phone. I was her only client this weekend which meant she was perpetually attached at my hip. This was the first long trip we’d taken together and while I didn’t particularly need someone hounding my every step she was handy sometimes. Like, right now.

She glanced up, looked back at her phone, and then squawked in realization. I backed away as she came at me, sure she’d give me a matching bruise to spite me. “For fuck’s sake, Liv. That looks terrible.” She grimaced and poked me under the eye. 

I swatted her hand. “I _know._ It feels terrible but I can only feasibly fix one of those things. And I can’t really even fix that because I’m terrible at makeup.” I pouted, looking as pathetic as possible given I easily had three inches on her. And almost a decade. She could have been my perpetually exasperated kid sister who couldn’t believe her sibling was so out of touch with what was in at the moment. Bless her heart; regardless of our differences in age, she shoo’d me back to the washroom.

Rachel was quiet as she worked, her fingertips and brush skills careful against my injured skin. One of the first things I’d told her was that I was a delicate flower, prone to accidents and easily wounded. She’d laughed, then. She didn’t laugh anymore. She was patient to a fault most days. Something niggled at the back of my head. “Hey. About earlier. With the post and the knocking myself out. Was Henry really there?” I almost hated how pathetic that sounded, the little lilt I couldn’t stop when I said his name. As though it were a spell and I could conjure him to me.

What I really wanted to know was he dashing? Did I wilt like a princess as he bore me gently to the ground? It must have been romantic, for sure. Right?

“He sure was. I swear the sound your head made. It was like a gong it was so loud and I was sure you’d split your skull. And then you looked at me, your eyes rolled back, and before I could reach you he materialized out of a room on the other side of the hall. Dumb luck, I guess. You were only out a few seconds.” 

Well. That was . . . not ideal. But, he had caught me and then he’d asked that ridiculous question during the panel that I did actually _really want to answer_ whether I broke a legally binding agreement or not. I could probably get him to cover my legal fees. I didn’t need Google to realize he was not only a drop dead gorgeous nerd but a _loaded_ drop dead gorgeous nerd.

This plan had merit.

I was ashamed of myself as soon as the thought entered my head. I had an obligation to my publisher and Henry was probably hot before he got rich. And no one became a nerd like him overnight; that shit ran right into every awkward experience between the ages of 7 and 19. The money was tertiary; I had plenty of my own. 

Rachel held my chin still as I squirmed in frustration. I needed to let this go. Our little meet up might have been one and done for him but I had the distinct feeling I’d be fretting and obsessing over it for days. Weeks.

If I was very very lucky I wouldn’t be thinking about what Henry _fucking_ Cavill was thinking when 2019 rolled around.

Five months was long enough to forget that smile, right? I looked at my phone, face down on the countertop, and sighed deeply. I was so fucked.

“Liv, did you remember to grab those shoes for the meet and greet? I know it’s an early dinner buffet but you really want to look your best. This is the best chance for you to pitch _The Vine Wars_ as a series. Think of the royalties.” Dollar signs glittered in Rachel’s eyes as she finished with a layer of powder. I glanced past her into the mirror. 

The bruise wasn’t _obvious_ per say but it certainly wasn’t completely covered. I looked at Rachel who gave me a shrug. “Best I could do. Now. Hair. Shoes. Dress. You’ve got thirty minutes before I drag you over to the Sheraton.” A year ago a half hour to get out the door would have been fine. Now I had a stylist-created routine I had to follow to coax volume out of my auburn hair. And I still needed eye shadow and lip stick.

I was going to be late and wasn’t that a trend I didn’t need to start this weekend?

We made it up the street with zero time to spare. This meet-and-greet was more for up and comers, a place for the less socially fortunate to get their metaphorical foot in the door. Netflix had always been relatively good about finding content and this was one of their tricks. It worked out for me because I had absolutely zero desire to fly to another country and be subject to LA traffic to beg them in their offices.

Rachel introduced me to a couple of contacts before cutting me loose in the room. It was a terrible choice on her part and she should have known better; I should really never be left to my own devices. I accepted one glass of champagne and then found a quiet corner so I could watch the proceedings around the room. I didn’t really recognize anyone yet and I was definitely way too sober to make new friends.

Too sober and far too keyed up from my afternoon.

My phone was burning a hole in my purse; I stared at the bag on the table. Took a long drag of champagne. Stared some more. With a muttered _fuck_ I pulled the phone out. Unlocked it. Checked FB and put out a message on my personal account that things were bizarre in the best way. I felt I should post something to the professional account too. There was an awesome selfie I’d taken at the panel with the crowd in the background that would look awesome.

My fingers zoomed that sucker in without me telling them to and I scanned the back row, where I know Henry would have been sitting. I caught a sliver of his hat and that was it. Disappointed, I keyed in a quick message and posted it. Now for Instagram.

After the debacle a few months ago, when my phone wouldn’t shut up for almost a week straight, I’d pulled permissions for IG push notifications. Again: I only have 5000 followers and nothing I regularly post gets much traffic. Not enough at any rate that I can’t handle it when I checked twice a day. Today, when I opened the app, there was a lovely little dot below the heart. Activity.

My jaw dropped as I saw the tag from my panel and the resulting reactions.

Henry had taken some video and then some photos. Praising me and showing his disappointment that he hadn’t gotten a more solid answer. The last video was me working through his accent. I grimaced. I wasn’t a huge fan of hearing my own voice and my game seemed dumb, or contrived, from the angle it was shot. Everyone in the back of the room had realized it was him which made my guessing look ridiculous. Contrived. There were a bunch of people who were accusing me of realizing it was him before hand.

If I’d had more fucks to give I probably would have.

But I didn’t and here I was, replaying the video from earlier in the day again.

And again.

A loud thump to my left jolted me out of my fourth re-watch and I almost jumped out of my seat. Someone had thrown a book on the table, my book by the cover, and was hovering right behind my shoulder. “I’m looking for better angles of video. I know there were at least three people shooting and I sort of need to see them. I must have been making the best faces while you were playing your guessing game.”

I almost came out of my skin as Henry slid into the seat next to me, his hand pushing my book closer. The book really looked worn and reread multiple times, corners folded in spots. I could see tabs sticking out and it was so endearing it almost made me want to cry. He really had just fallen into the world with his whole being. “Now, before you run off again I’m going to have to have you sign this for me or I’m going to regret it for a very long time.” Those long, aristocratic fingers plucked a pen from a pocket inside his immaculately tailored sports coat. He held it to me and I could only stare at the charming smile on his face.

“Well fuck me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry and Liv hang out in ATL. Henry learns about the best bars to drink at while Liv is still a clutz. And super duper not a lady. Moving towards earning that M rating. But not yet.
> 
> Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a super long time to write. It felt like I kept making Henry way creepier than he should be which shut Liv down entirely. Don't let your own social anxiety cripple your characters, my friends. They are not you and can totally have actual conversations with other adults about their work without defaulting to single syllable answers.
> 
> ALSO. 5.4k words later I feel like I should apologize. The person who had to succinctly write to get a Master's degree is embarrassed now. Fuck it. They're adorbs.
> 
> THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR THE COMMENTS IF I MISS YOU I PROMISE I STILL LOVE YOU!

“Well fuck me.” I slapped a hand over my mouth as soon as the words escaped and I choked back a panicked laugh. That wasn’t how I would have liked to start this conversation.

Henry raised a single eyebrow and cocked his head. His wild curls had been tamed, smoothed back and still looking soft as ever. He’d paired a lavender shirt with a dark blue sports coat. Black slacks finished the look and I would swear on my life that I absolutely did not check him out. Multiple times. While trying not to fall off my seat in embarrassment.

“Uh. Well. I wasn’t going to presume like that, but if you insist.” He kept the offer in his eyes for a moment and then another. My heart stopped beating completely. “But . . . maybe that’s something we should negotiate a little further into the relationship?” He shrugged one shoulder so delicately that I’d have never guessed he was a giant wall of muscle. The tension snapped, ricocheting right out the door. 

“I am so so sorry. Sometimes I say things-“ I hated that an apology was the first thing I could squeak out but it was most definitely needed.

He waved a hand good-naturedly. “Believe me, I’ve accidently said worse.”

I guess we were just going to gloss over the part where we were pretending I hadn’t just propositioned him for sex and he had agreed in a roundabout sort of way. Cool. “So, you’re here. At this party with me. That’s . . . unexpected. I didn’t think we’d run into each other again.” I took a steadying sip of champagne and then frowned down at the glass.

It was empty.

Balls.

Henry noticed and flagged down a waiter. He looked honestly perplexed as he addressed my meandering question. “Netflix owns me for the few years or so. This isn’t a contractual obligation but someone mentioned you’d be here.” He looked almost bashful, pen still dangling from his fingers. The words brought my color up again and I coughed, trying to hide my girlish joy at the flattery. I couldn’t recall ever having been _stalked politely_ before but I wasn’t feeling opposed to the situation.

“Because you needed to get your book signed?” I finally grabbed the pen and his book. A bark of laughter escaped me as I flipped open to the cover page. He’d jotted notes in the empty spaces, not leaving me any room to sign. “And where, exactly, would you like me to sign?”

His chuckle was close, too close, as he leaned over my shoulder to flip to the first chapter. He hadn’t written anything over the heading and I scrawled a pretty common inscription: _Dear Henry, thanks for helping bring this world to life. YIS, Liv_. His smooth voice sounded out the words as I wrote them and I suppressed a shiver.

Goose bumps. My whole world was goose bumps as he breathed across the skin at my nape. Something short wired in my brain as he reached the end of the inscription and repeated, “YIS?”

I nodded, just a little, unable to turn my head for fear that he’d be _right there_. “It’s shorthand for yours in service. Something my graduate advisor used to sign his emails with. It just stuck a few years ago when I was writing my own.”

There was a laugh behind me and I let out a breath as he moved back to his own seat. His eyes were glued to the book, mouthing the words once again as though it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. He reminded me of a kid, gifted with the impossible during Christmas. That one present they’d never expected. And then he licked his lips and looked up at me from under his eyelashes.

I bit my lip, hard, to keep a whimper from escaping. He really just wasn’t fair.

_Fuck_.

His grin grew at my embarrassment; that asshole knew exactly what he was doing. A polite cough interrupted and I was honestly overjoyed as the waiter materialized with a set of drinks. He’d brought champagne for me and water for Henry. “You could at least be drinking too so when I start spewing verbal diarrhea you won’t remember and think less of me in the morning.” Teasing that he’ll _see_ me in the morning? Brilliant. Fantastic.

He held up a mocking finger. “One: you’d have to say some pretty foul shit for me to think less of you right now after this-“ his free hand drummed against the book. “And two: I love a beer as much as the next bloke but I’m about to start building muscle for a role. Alcohol is just wasted calories right now.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re going to get bigger? Intentionally?” His shoulders were so wide I’d probably be able to fit two of me inside that suit jacket of his.

He hummed and took a sip of water. My eyes tracked his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. That scruff was going to be the death of me. “My trainer is thinking around 10 kilo for the start of rehersals. I always lose some as we go on with the insanity of shooting but we agreed that’s a good starting spot.” He said it so nonchalantly that I wondered if I’d heard right. He was getting ready to put on the equivalent of a Christmas turkey? 10 kilos was a weight loss goal I always set for myself in February only to laugh off by the time the weather finally warmed up enough to care in June.

I wanted desperately to ask him what he was about to start shooting; what role could possibly require that kind of size? Would that be a weird question? Everyone liked talking about their work, right?

“So-“

“What-“

We both cut short, interrupting the other. Secretly I was relieved. He’d saved me from myself and when he made protests that I should ask my question I waved my hand and took another drink.

  
I still hadn’t eaten and the champagne was making me a little loose.

Why was I at this party anyway? I should be having this conversation somewhere with less awful elevator music. Somewhere with a great view of the city and a soft couch where I could curl up under that wicked looking bicep teasing me from under Henry’s jacket.

He looked at me expectantly and with a start I realized I hadn’t heard what he’d asked, too caught up in the thought of the two of us _cuddling._ “Sorry, what? I was- um. Thinking about food.” Way to go Liv; a safe topic everyone could get behind.

He laughed, full body and joyful. It was so loud I almost jumped, leaning away from him. His head thrown back, one hand braced on his chest, he was the very definition of happiness. I had missed something.

When he’d recovered he lopped an elbow on the table and then leaned his chin on the propped up hand. “You’re very easily distracted, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but that’s beside the point. What were you asking?” I tried to push his hand away, embarrassed by the scrutiny. He caught my fingers instead, pulling them into the crook of his elbow where he held them hostage. My face burned and I was so happy we were in a dark room so he couldn’t see the color staining my cheeks. I wasn’t this woman; I didn’t titter and huff over men. I didn’t _blush_ at the slightest touch.

  
Except with him I was that person.

It was a super toss up whether I was totally all right with seeing where this would end up or run screaming from the States in an attempt to protect my laissez-faire demeanor. When I tried to delicately pull away he flexed, trapping my hand. Well, I guess this was it. I was stuck with him indefinitely.

Henry leaned closer, his free hand tugging on wayward strands of hair. “Now that I have you here, _Liv_ , you should tell me about the Breaking of the Proclamation.” It was the first time he’d said my first name and it was decadent. That voice. Fuck that voice was pure sin, smooth and assured. I took a deep breath, letting his cologne wash over me. Really, if I spilled all my secrets to him no one would know. He wouldn’t tell anyone. 

Between the intense look on his face and the warmth holding my fingers captive I’d found myself completely entranced by Henry Cavill. The asshole. 

And as such, I pulled away. I brushed my hair back with a free hand and then squeezed the forearm that held me. He freely relaxed and I slipped back, firmly in my own seat. He’d have to work a lot harder to get me lucky charms. I’d lose my book deals and anything I managed to scrape together for the future during this weekend.

Henry stared me down with a puzzled expression for just a moment before he finished his water. “Right. Sorry. No more questions about book three, despite the fact that the answers to most of my questions are right here in front of me.” I chuckled at his abrupt change of pace. At least he could roll with the punches. “Now, you’re trying to sell your books and I’m here to convince people they can make the impossible happen. We should mingle.” He stood and held out his arm, the picture of a perfect gentleman.

“Wait, what? Mingle?” I took too long to respond and he fetched a hand to slide into his grasp. “Wait-“ I protested as he pulled me to my feet. “How are you going to convince people? Your immaculately groomed facial hair or those shoulders that don’t seem to quit?” 

It was the very first time I’d mentioned anything about his physical appearance that might possibly indicate that I would 100% strip naked in a closet in as little time as humanly possible.

The shit eating grin he sent me told me he understood exactly what was on my mind.

I was so fucked. But not yet. Apparently we had to mingle first.

“Oh, you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“My next project. We start filming the Witcher in October. I get to play Geralt.”

My feet stopped moving, my eyes rising to his to see if he was joking.

For a worldly woman who sure knew a lot about a lot of things I’d missed the news on several key events. One. They were making a Witcher show?! And I hadn’t known, despite having read the books many times. Further, the guy who’d made my career and was now guiding me around the room like I was a debutant was going to play one of my favorite characters. Thirdly . . . I didn’t even _have_ a thirdly. Just one thought sprang to mind as he led me to a pair of producers from Netflix. “You can’t possibly play Geralt though. You are far too pretty and he is way too fucked up.”

Next to me, Henry paused as a couple of people around us stiffened. I froze, realizing how uncouth that comment had been. I opened my mouth to apologize but he tightened squeezed my hand gently. Head bent, he whispered into my ear, “There's a grain of truth in every fairy tale.” He’d definitely found a good balance between video game Geralt and his own accent, the words gravel and fierce. As any Witcher should be.

Oh now. That was just _cheating_.

-!-!-!-!-!-

An hour and forty five minutes of mingling and another glass of champagne later, I had to use the ladies if only to get off my feet and process everything that had happened. I tended to be face blind and I hoped Rachel was mentally tracking who I was talking to because I never would. She gave me a nod from her perch by the buffet. I smiled in thanks and slipped off to the hallway. What a fucking night.

I took my time in the toilets, letting cool water run over my wrists to try and cool myself down. It was warm in that room and standing next to Henry was like hanging out next to a bonfire in July. As I headed back to the conference room my phone buzzed. I fished it out only to find a text from Rachel: _I’m headed up for the night. Don’t do anything stupid on camera._

Rude.

  
But sweet. I smirked at her comment and sent her back an affirmative text. Distracted, I missed the large body blocking the door until I’d run headlong into it. “You really should watch where you’re going, Liv. You’re going to hurt yourself one of these days.” 

I chuckled up at Henry and gathered my footing. It was one thing to head butt a post, another entirely to run down my new _friend_. “Are you . . . do you need the washroom too?” He was headed somewhere, that was for sure.

“No, food I’m thinking. It’s almost seven.”

Every ounce of me fought against the feeling of loss that he might disappear for the night. We’d been having a great time, conversation flowing freely between the two of us. I hedged a bet, though, that he was leaving that statement an open-ended invitation. “There’s a pretty good steakhouse on Baker.”

He grinned. I’d guessed correctly and mentally did a very happy dance. “Lead the way, my lady.”

This was my third time in Atlanta, twice now for Dragon Con and once for a Thrashers game back when my cousin made his NHL debut. Both previous times I hadn’t spent a ton of time wandering the city but I knew three key places: the best place for a steak, the best bar in the Peachtree Center, and the best place for post-drink revelry. I accepted Henry’s arm when we got to street level, trying not to lean in too obviously, when I had a thought.

“What’s the likelihood you’re going to get recognized? I mean, I don’t want to put you on the spot in public or anything. Oh fuck, I didn’t even think about this. Is it okay if we go somewhere public?” Here I was, inviting myself out to dinner with the guy and I didn’t even consider the most basic of issues that come along with the super famous.

His dazzling grin eased some of my worries. He had a very Superman vibe going on with his look that night and that seemed dicey. “Other than your panel no one has said anything. At all. It’s a little weird but I suspect it’s because I’m not an official guest.” He leaned down conspiratorially. “No one expects me to be here so no one realizes it’s me.” He paused and then mused, “It’s kind of nice, actually. Nets me some alone time with my favorite author.”

Now he was just laying it on thick. I gave his forearm a squeeze to let him know I appreciated the mention, no matter how ridiculous it was. But then, another thought formed. “If you’re not a guest why’d you come?”

“Because this is the nerd Mecca of North America? Because I had a couple of free weeks before my next project? Because there were a couple of panels that were too good to pass up.” 

_My panel?_ I was dying to ask. It felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, on immense ocean of possibility below me. All I had to do was leap. Was this the precipice of change? I glanced up at Henry, who was still watching my face, and played it cool.

“Oh, look! There’s the restaurant.” This was not the precipice. I was just hungry.

The hostess found us a quiet corner away from the bulk of the crowd and I was happy to see that it hadn’t changed much in the few years since I’d been here. Henry also seemed pleased enough with the menu that I gave myself a mental pat on the back. “So, how’d you find this place?”

“Harley Quinn kidnapped me during Dragon Con 2012.” Sass was always appropriate. I got a laugh and elaborated. “Last time I was here a bunch of lady cosplayers got together for a photo shoot down at the Park. This was on the way back to the hotel so my roommate Harley, well her name is really Sal, stopped here. _Really_ good steak.”

“What did you cosplay as?”

“Rogue, from the X-men.”

He chewed on his lip and I could almost imagine the next question out of his mouth. “You didn’t want to keep in theme with your room mate, maybe go as Poison Ivy?”

I rolled my eyes a bit and sighed. “Nah. I’ve always been a die-hard Marvel fan. I’m not really into DC.” I kept my voice as nonchalant as possible and didn’t look back to my companion. I heard his wounded gasp and stifled a chuckle. When he grabbed my hand in mock sadness, I gave an actual full bellied laugh.

He cradled my fingers, resting them lightly in his palm. He looked so forlorn and betrayed. I wanted to take it back, but I knew I couldn’t. My first love would always be Gambit. Superman didn’t even rank in the top ten superheroes for me.

“That’s a horrible thing to say. I thought we were friends.”

“Would you still be my friend if I told you I haven’t even seen the new DC stuff, aside from Wonder Woman?”

He blinked and leaned back, tugging me a little as he kept a grip on my hand. “I honestly don’t know what to do with you.” The waiter arrived with our appetizers, breaking any minor tension between us. Henry was smiling when he squeezed my fingers and let me have my hand back. It felt cold away from him and I made a fist to get some blood flowing.

“I was always a huge Batman fan growing up. I love all the gadgets and stuff. I must have worn out my copy of Batman; I probably watched it twice a day for two summers in a row. My brothers-“ he paused to take a sip, watching to see if I was paying attention. I sure was, the food mostly forgotten in front of me as I watched his face light up with memories. It was the same expression he’d made when we’d first met and I was beginning to associate it with his true nerd showing up.

“My older brothers, at least, would mock me incessantly. I didn’t care. I’d just hideaway in the TV room and watch it again.”

I laughed along with him at the thought of baby Henry all alone, staring adoringly at the screen. “That was the one that came out in like 1990 right, with Michael Kean?”

He snorted. “Keaton. Yeah.”

Well, I hadn’t lied about not being a DC fan. “I kinda remember that one. My brothers were obsessed when it came out. The penguin guy scared me a lot though; I think I was only 4 or 5.”

Henry looked at me for a long moment, a smile playing on his lips. “You should have been five, I think. ’84, right?”

“Um, yes. Creepy, but yes?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “How did you know that?”

He shrugged. “You have a Wikipedia page.” As though it were perfectly normal to know the year someone you’d just met was born. It was almost a bizarre feeling.

“I do. And you’ve read it?” He nodded. “I haven’t, in a hot minute. Hold on, let me pull it up.” I was curious what kind of information he’d have access too. I knew he’d watched some previous talks but it had never crossed my mind that he would have done more research. Or maybe he’d gotten the cliff notes from his PA because he knew he’d be meeting me this weekend? But how would he know that?

He was quiet as the page loaded and I had a minor mental fart. They didn’t even have my birthday listed, just my birth year. I glanced up at him. “March 13th.” At his confused look I repeated the date. “It’s my birthday. In case you wanted to send me a present or something.” I stuck my tongue out and he hooted with laughter.

Looking back at the page, I was glad to see there wasn’t anything too embarrassing, at least. Oh, no wait. There was a photo of me in my high school drama club, doing Puck’s ending monologue from Midsummer. My face lit up like a Christmas tree at the image but I had to laugh at it too. I looked ridiculous, precariously perched on a stool wearing tight black clothes and a beret.

Henry was grinning like mad. He probably knew exactly what photo had done that. I looked at the editor on the page and my eyes narrowed. Rachel had been thorough. There were a few more ridiculous photos: me at age five on a horse, my exceptionally embarrassing punk rock years in the late 90’s, a grinning shot of bantam Liv in the U-12’s, even me walking the stage at University of Alberta. The last photo was a punch to the gut though.

James and Dylan, arms thrown across my shoulders, grinning before their deployment. I blacked out my screen and put the phone down. At least she hadn’t listed all the dumb shit I’d done in my life, so that was a positive. I made a mental note to get her to take the photos down in the morning. No one needed to see that stuff.

Sensing I’d seen something I hadn’t wanted to, Henry sobered and reached for my hand again. “So what have you got against DC, anyway?”

I was so thankful for his deflection that I could have cried. He had a way of reading people that was both heart achingly sweet and desperately intuitive. I tightened my hand under his. “Alternating Current just makes way more sense.” He looked baffled. “Tesla was robbed. Down with Edison.” My exclamation was met with a rueful chuckle.

“Oh, that’s very punny of you. Come up with that one all by yourself did you?”

“As a matter of fact I did.” My shit eating grin was infectious but again, we were interrupted by food. The appetizers had settled the alcohol in my system and I was now very ready for dinner. We tucked in, fine dining manners set to the side in the pursuit of great food.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“You’re telling me you’ve never, not once, mingled with fans during a convention? Not even a little?”

“Not even once. Not even a little. I’m actually a little nervous right now, being out here.” 

We were drinking at the Westin. Scratch that. I was drinking, my belly full of good food and my first vodka tonic while I nursed my way through my second. Down on the ground floor of the lobby and hidden away from most of the world it wasn’t particularly loud. Yet. It was barely scratching 9 and the party was just about to kick off.

Henry had ditched his coat at reception and rolled up his sleeves. I’d made an offhand comment about the size of his forearms and how strong his grip must be. He’d _blushed_ and I was now making it my mission to get more of the same reaction.

“Lord, but the women must throw themselves at you.”

He smirked at that, trying to hide it behind a sip of water but I cottoned on. I shoved his shoulder, giving him grief. He didn’t even budge because of course he didn’t. “So you don’t hang out with them but do you fuck them?”

“Oh my god, you can’t just ask a man that, Liv. It’s not _ladylike_.” His voice dropped an octave and he leaned in to whisper the last word. I let it hang there for a couple beats before I started laughing. We’d already covered my complete lack of ladylike qualities due to my general clumsiness and a potty mouth that was the product of being raised by farm hands.

“But to answer your question, no. Generally not. It gets . . . _messy_.” There was a deeper story there that I wasn’t sure I was ready to know.

In an attempt to bring levity to the situation I gestured broadly. “Well, you’re missing out. I always fuck my fans when they throw themselves at me.”

I watched his eyes darken as what I’d just said sank in. He shifted back, imperceptibly adjusting the seam of his pants. “Is one required to actually throw themselves or would they be allowed to subtly nudge you at the end of the night?”

It was my turn to blush.

-!-!-!-!-!-

11 PM rolled around a lot faster than I’d expected. We’d bounced from the Westin shortly after I’d pulled my best tomato impersonation and had spilled most of my drink on the floor. Henry’s pants and shoes were fine but my sling backs were soaked.

He offered to accompany me back to my room but I wasn’t quite ready for that conversation. Instead I slipped the heels off and let them dangle from my fingers. Which is why, when we found the outdoor pool at the Marriott I was happy to slip my feet into the cool water.

I left Henry standing behind me, unsure about what to do with himself. It wasn’t a test, honest, I just really needed to cool down. The night was hot and full of hormones. He declined dipping his own toes, pulling a free chair up behind me. I stiffened initially but he guided me back to lean against the chair with his legs bracketing my shoulders. “Is this okay?” His voice was right at my ear and sultry.

_Fuck yes it was._

I nodded, unable to find the words to properly articulate how very okay it absolutely was. When he put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed I let out a long groan and relaxed fully. 

The pool wasn’t overly crowded and the noise around us faded away as he rubbed my neck. His fingers were clever, finding all the spots that were sour. Perhaps he was just a very good listener, tracking when my breathing would hitch. Strong thumbs ran up to the base of my head and pushed and it felt heavenly. 

“Fuck, Henry. Keep doing that.”

He stopped abruptly, his fingers stilling, and I frowned. He couldn’t be bad at taking direction. He was a god damned actor. I risked a glance behind me, finding a very odd look on his face. Part panic, part desperation. “Hey, are you all right?”

He gave me a tight nod and took his hands back. “I am. I, um. Am more than fine actually and I’m going to lean back for a bit, with my hands folded politely in my lap, while I try to forget about all those noises you just made while in public. Surrounded by at least three people taking photos.”

I hadn’t noticed people taking shots of him but I did finally notice his cheeks were bright red. 

Oh.

Oh _my._

I wanted to laugh, more out of personal victory and amusement than anything. I didn’t, because that would have been hella rude. I also didn’t check on the state of his lap, despite the burning look he was levering at me. 

I supposed this moment was finally the confirmation that I’d been hoping I’d find eventually.

Henry Cavill wanted to have sex. With me. And boy howdy was I alright with that development. 

He had to stop looking at me, tipping his head back to stare at what stars could be seen in downtown Atlanta. It admittedly was not many but the view that he gave me was exquisite. That strong jaw, clenched in personal frustration, and his Adam’s apple working overtime to help control his emotions.

Yup. That was confirmation all right. 

I stood easily, holding out my hand for him. He blinked at me in surprise and stared for just a moment. “Follow me out close, no one will see. But I absolutely need to not be around people right at this moment.” Maybe he thought _I_ was having problems and I saw his whole demeanor shift. Interesting. He really was always ready to drop into knight in shining armor mode at any given time. Rather than being a pompous ass like most knights actually were, he gave me a grimace and a nod, standing.

I . . . tried not to stagger back at the size of the bulge in his pants but I couldn’t help myself. The man appeared to be packing quite a bit. And I had just decided I should like to see it as soon as possible. In for a penny, in for a pound I supposed.

He slinked after me as I pulled him towards the nearest exit. We cleared the outdoor pool and the indoor pool in record time. I was resolutely trying not to run ( _honestly skip would be more in line with my mental happy dance)_ as we made it to a hall leading to the stairs.

Perhaps one day I’d wonder who made the first move, whether I spun abruptly to press him against the closest wall or whether he gave me a tug and sent me stumbling into his arms. Regardless, his hands lifted me almost effortlessly as I pressed my mouth to his. He let out a growl, the kiss sweet despite the urgency in his grip. I gasped as I felt his fingers dig in and align that insurmountable hardness against my center.

We devoured each other, hands pulling and gripping, both keenly aware of the other’s need but still . . . this was a very public hallway and he was a very famous man who shouldn’t be caught in such situations. Especially not after people had already been taking his photo. What if they followed us?

“Hen- Henry, stop.”

His frustrated groan in response to my words was so _whiny_ , I almost lost my shit right there. “No. Just- we can’t do this here. We need . . .” I trailed off as his mouth went on an adventure along my jaw and then down my neck. That scruff of his was riding rough and sending sparks up my overly sensitive skin. 

This man was going to kill me.

But not here. Not like this. I took a firm grip of his hair and peeled his head back. He let me bring our faces even, a needy whine escaping his mouth at my grasp. _Interesting._ “Hotel room. I’m at the Westin. Where are you staying?”

My words cut through his fog and he ground into my rapidly dampening cunt. “Ugh. The Ritz. On Ellis I think.”

I did some mental gymnastics. “I’m closer.”

“I don’t think that’s possible. Don’t know if I can walk in this condition.” He sounded exceptionally pained, burying his face in my shoulder to hide. I chuckled and loosened the grip on his hair. I gave him a few pets before I patted his shoulder.

“Let me down, babe. We can’t have sex in a hallway in _Atlanta, Georgia_ like this.”

“But why not?” His muffled words made me laugh but he loosened his grip on my thighs. Sliding to the floor I enjoyed every single inch on the way down.

Back on solid ground, I took stock of the two of us. He was very obviously disheveled and I . . . I had lost my shoes. Fuck ‘em. They were fallen soldiers now. I took a deep breath and fished my phone out of my purse. A few delicate taps and we had an Uber on the way. He was breathing heavy, leaned against the wall, and clearly still very horny. I hoped he was at full mast because even through the trousers I wasn’t sure he’d fit as it was. He caught me staring and let out a bark of laughter. “If you don’t stop we will definitely not make it out of this hotel. I will find a _supply closet_ if I have to.”

I shook my head and brushed my hair out. “No supply closets. Guillaume with the Uber will be out front in 5, we’ve got to boogie.”

Eyebrows quirked he gestured broadly to his body. “Er. Still kind of in a way over here.”

I smirked. “You’ve got a jacket. Figure it out, bud.” I winked and headed over to where the elevators were.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POOOOORN. That's it. Just porn.

There’s an awkwardness of a one night stand, right? Especially if both parties have determined their interest but then have to _change locations_. The decision to keep their hands to themselves or not during transit doesn’t help. It’s still weird because one moment all they can think of is _sex and naked and right fucking_ now but then the brakes get pumped and there’s a weird shuffle.

It’s weird, okay. It’s weird feeling the wetness between my thighs as I practically drag Henry into a car and then I have to _sit._ It almost feels like a slip and slide and his hand drums anxiously on the seat between us. He wanted to reach out, that was for sure, but he kept to his hands to himself like a gentleman. When the Uber pulled away he glanced at my hand so I held on and kept dragging. We must have looked like crazy people, running but not through the now moderately crowded lobby. It was weird when we got to the elevator and he was still holding his coat in front of his crotch to maintain his appearance in public. A murmur went up around us. Fuck, he’d been spotted. I shoved him in the first free car.

We stared at each other as the car began to rise, taking us up towards the top where most of the panel guests were staying.

There was that thrill, _maybe we will maybe we shouldn’t_ , when our eyes locked. He arched his back just the smallest amount, the motion driving some primal memory that lived in my very soul and he. licked. his. damn. lips. I grew wetter; how was that even _possible_? He smirk was victorious when I couldn’t keep still anymore, my feet pulling me to him. 

Life was strange. And weird. And standing in front of Henry I knew it was about to get a lot more complicated. Even if we never spoke after tonight, which wasn’t very likely since we’d been hitting it off real fucking well, we’d be under the others skin for the rest of our days. A quiet and intentional _what if_.

He licked his lips again and I finally laid hands on him, both palms settling on his chest. He kept his fingers to himself and I didn’t rush anything. We were still in an elevator, after all, and there were nerds everywhere. He’d been well trained by his PR people and I had no interest in adding a public nudity charge to my time in the States.

His heartbeat was steady under my fingers and I felt his breathing pick up when the elevator glided to a stop.

Here we were.

_Maybe we will maybe we shouldn’t._

I let my hands drop and took a step back. He pushed away from the wall with a predatory glint in his eyes. _Fuuuuuuck_. We almost missed the doors, taking too long eye balling each other and I was glad that it provided a much needed comedic interlude. I was able to get a hand in to push them back open and his laughter followed me out into the hall. It was much quieter up here, twenty six floors above the party below but I could hear small conclaves of revelers at various heights in the open air atrium. All the hotels felt like this, giant monoliths dedicated to open curved spaces.

The very last door on the right loomed large and I risked a glance back.

  
Henry had dropped both of his arms, the bulge in his pants no longer hidden, and my mouth went dry. We definitely were.

“I, um, really need to wash my feet.” The words popped out as I realized the grimy feeling I had on the carpet was probably because I’d been meandering downtown Atlanta without shoes. He dipped his head and leaned next to the door. He was trying to look casual. The tense line in his shoulders and a slight quiver in his forearms gave him away. He was desperate to get his hands on me again.

The door clicked open and I let us both in. “Make yourself at home.” I waved towards the double beds and ducked into the washroom. I was also trying to sound casual; it wasn’t working. The best thing now would be to forget the sounds of cloth hitting the ground through the open door and focus on cleaning up. I had been pretty thorough with my shower so I wasn’t worried about BO but it never hurt to be sure.

Henry gave me five minutes before he came to investigate. He’d ditched his coat, his shoes and socks, as well as his belt. I gave him a small smile and finished washing the soap off. As soon as I was clean he stalked to the bathtub. My gulp was audible as I stood to face him.

I’m not a short person. At 5’9” I’m quite tall for my height. I was also not waifish by any definition of the word but standing there in that bathroom I felt dwarfed as he came to a stop in front of me. A single hand rose, palming my cheek and sliding to the back of my head. I let my eyes fall shut and it made him murmur in approval at the relaxed look on my face. “Condoms?”

I nodded, eyes still closed at the feel of his warm skin on mine. “In the bag on the counter. There should be a full box in there.”

His voice came again, much closer, and the goose bumps were back. “Good.” And then he kissed me.

It was more tempered than the hallway, his grip gentle as he maneuvered my head back to allow him better access. I flicked my tongue out, exploring that temptation of a bottom lip and groan at the taste of him. His ministrations were thorough, lips and teeth nibbling at me and drawing needy whines from my throat.

I pulled back to breathe and finally opened my eyes. His own were blown wide, the blue all but swallowed by his pupils in his lust. “Bed?” He nodded and I giggled at his serious expression. His intensity had increased exponentially, all focus on me. It made me feel wanted and safe, truly here with this Adonis.

I made to climb free of the tub but Henry was having none of that. He hauled me up by my waist right into his body. My legs wrapped tight around his core reflexively and it drew a long groan from my throat. My core rubbed deliciously against his solid center, painfully ready for a release.

He went back to kissing me as he walked the two of us out to the bed.

Idly I wondered how many orgasms I was in for.

My back hit the bed, his weight grinding into my dripping center again. I whimpered; Henry chuckled against my lips and raised his upper body. His strong hands glided up my thighs, pushing my dress out of the way, and urged my legs to the mattress. My panties were vanished with a trick of his two index fingers and lost somewhere behind him.

I was bare and open to him and I watched the lust deepen in his face as he took me in. A final glance up at me full of playfulness was all the warning I had before he headed south. I couldn’t help but throw my head back in joy.

Several. 

Several orgasms. For sure.

I almost came off the bed at the first touch of his mouth against the crease where my thigh met my abdomen. His teeth nipped at the delicate skin there and then followed down, down to where his prize lay. I chanced a glance down my body to find him staring up at me over my mound. His hair had relaxed during the night, his natural curls a little more obvious now. His eyes were almost entirely bottomless pits by this point and I could see he was desperately trying to hold himself back. He looked to be waiting for my approval.

I cocked a grin and let a hand fall to the back of his head and my fingers sank in to the curls there. That _whine_ floated up to me as I tightened my grip and guided his mouth exactly where I wanted it.

_EXTREMELY fucking interesting._

I hadn’t imagined it, I really was stupidly wet. The first broad lick of his tongue got a groan out of him and a responding sigh as his noises vibrated against my core. He went to town for longer than I would have expected, simply teasing my nether lips. He closed around my clit, tonguing light and gentle as he played. It was heavenly but not enough. I wanted to tell him to stop playing with his food, tightening my fingers even more instead. I leveraged my hips up, figuring he must not be picking up what I was putting down. He responded by pushing a thick arm across my abdomen, essentially trapping me.

  
I was disappointed for approximately two seconds until his free hand slid up my thigh to join his mouth. Oh. Oh he knew exactly what I wanted.

And then I was shouting, unable to hold back the orgasm that ricocheted through me when he pressed against that spot inside of me with two fingers, hard. My stomach clenched and I almost folded in half around him. He rode through it, tongue lapping lightly against my clit. As I came back I heard another appreciative moan as his hand slipped free.

“You. You are a wonder.” He was looking at me again and I gave him a crooked grin. Red faced, his chin and lips smeared with my essence, he was a vision. I shut my eyes and sighed deep, my heartbeat still bouncing in my chest.

“Not my fault. That was all you.” 

His hand made lazy circles on my stomach and he just watched, waiting for me to rejoin the land of the living. When my breathing slowed enough that I could form full sentences I cupped his jaw and pulled myself up. I devoured his mouth, desperate to taste myself on his tongue. The fervor got me another thankful grown and I wasted no time making my appreciation known. Not many men had gotten me off with their mouths. This deserved a special reward. “We’re wearing too many clothes.”

My complaint brought his hands up my sides, stripping me promptly of my dress. He growled at the sight of my breasts in the black bra I’d chosen for the night and I laughed a bit when he pressed his face to my chest. Someone was a tits man. 

I tugged at his shirt and he obliged, pulling it straight off his body.

I didn’t _gasp_ per say. I just, kind of . . . made a pathetically embarrassing sound and a quick inhale. It wasn’t a gasp. It was a reverse exclamation, the kind of noise one makes when they see something they kind of expected but just couldn’t quite visualize. 

As the Brits would say, Henry was proper fit. I let my eyes wander the planes of his chest, smiling appreciative of his body hair and all the little ridges he’d spent years perfecting. This . . . this was as close to precision as I was probably likely to ever see.

I ran a hand up the fur in the center of his chest, straight up to his jaw. He flexed under my ministrations and it made me laugh. Him showing off for me was both ridiculously panty soup making hot but also extremely adorable. A kid wanted to impress the pretty girl at school. “Are you laughing at my physique?” He had a lilt to the exasperated question that let me know he wasn’t offended.

I shook my head solemnly though, not wanting to break my concentration. “Nope. Just, you know, thinking about how easy it’d be for you to put me in literally any position you wanted.”

His grin was wolfish as he fell forward with his hands bracketing my head. “Very easy. I bench 155 on my off days.”

I whimpered, instinctively rolling my hips towards him. I hadn’t really ever gone for the muscle heads before. Little did I know I had an unforeseen kink for a man being able to lift twice my own weight. 

He leaned down to kiss me again and I pushed back on his chest. “I have an insanely desperate need to ride you.” He growled, his chin dropping to his chest as he took in deep breaths. “If that’s . . . okay with you?” Sass. Sass was always the answer.

He looked up at me sharply before standing. His hands worked the buttons of his trousers, his task made extraordinarily difficult by the bulge attempting to escape. The moment of truth was upon me. I bit my lip as he dropped the zipper. Henry knew exactly the effect he had on the fairer sex as his pants fell to the floor, his briefs following right after.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

My mouth watered. My eyes widened. My breath hitched.

The stars ought to _weep_ when they find themselves in a constellation such as _this_. 

What I mean to say it was this perfect specimen of a man really was perfect, naked in front of me with nine solid inches of perfection curving up towards his stomach. _All for me._ I wanted him in my mouth. I wanted him in my pussy. I extended a hand and he stepped closer. He was hard and smooth under my ministrations. I pulled his foreskin back and leaned forward to give his head an exploratory lick. 

Henry’s hands bracketed my jaw, stilling my ministrations. He coughed, collecting his thoughts before he spoke. “If you do that we’re going to end our evening far sooner than I’d like to.”

Message understood I let my hands drift up his thighs to abdomen. His six pack was well defined and I let my fingers play over the skin for a moment. He growled, hands tightening and I glanced up at him through my lashes. He looked ready to pop and I took pity.

“Alright, hotshot. On your back. Up at the headrest” He clamored over me, almost knocking me off the bed in his haste. I disappeared into the washroom for condoms and reappeared to find him palming his length. 

Fuuuuuuuck.

My hand slapped his thigh lightly, urging him higher up the bed and at an angle. I wanted to be looking right into those beautiful blues when I took his whole length in me. He obliged, throwing his head back as I sheathed him in the rubber. As I straddled his hips I realized that for such a big man he was quite slim in the hips. My knees tucked tightly against his sides, feet tucked under the back of his thighs. 

“Are you ready?”

He growled in response, his hands flexing against the padding at my waist. Of course he was ready.

I took him slow, dipping down in shallow motions as I adjusted to him. It wasn’t the girth that I was conscious of but the length of him. My hips rotated, swallowing another inch inside my body and I threw my head back with a groan. He was three quarters of the way in and was already pressing nonstop on my g-spot. A hand came up, tweaking at my right breast. The sudden sharp pain/pleasure rocketed through my body and my hips _opened_. I sank down fully on him and we both let loose wild groans.   
  


Fuck. I felt full to the brim, unable to properly inhale through the sensations running the length of me. Every pulse of his heart, his sharp inhales and the small micro twitches he was trying to hide were reflected and multiplied through him as I kept him resting against my cervix.

“Hen-“ I couldn’t find words. My mouth worked with no sounds coming out.

Both of his hands came back to my hips and he dug in. I bit my lip and finally focused on the man below me, the source of all this pleasure and pain. He was begging me with his eyes to move, his upper lip twitching. He looked almost feral and I gathered what strength I could. The very first undulation I made with my hips broke something in him, his hands guiding me as I settled into an unmistakable rhythm on his cock.

It was . . . indescribable. So full with all the right pressure in all the right spots. He was drilling my cervix, dragging the head of that delicious cock down my g-spot with every back stroke. Topping it all off, the coarse hair at his pelvic ground delectable into my clit, sending sparks up my spine every time he surged forward to meet my rise.

“Fuck. Hen- God, don’t stop.” I wailed. It was my most dignified moment of the night, hand grasping blindly at the pecs beneath me as I rode a man I’d known for less than a day into oblivion.

I heard him beneath me, a litany of fucks as he doubled down on his movements. I was close. He was close. Fuck.

He beat me to the punch but not by much. A twitch in his long fingers and then he was roaring beneath me. I kept at it, the throb between my knees pushing me over the edge again. The orgasm flowed through my nerves, curling my toes and collapsing me on his chest. He jerked twice, a hand tapping out on the sheet next to us, and I let out a sharp laugh.

What a fucking nerd.

We stayed like that for long moments. I could feel his heartbeat where we were still connected and it made me smile into his chest. He brought a hand up to my neck and rubbed lazy circles behind my ear. “What’s so funny?”

I grinned harder. “Your heart is racing. I can feel it in my lady parts.”

He laughed along with me, bending down to place a kiss to the top of my head. “Of course it is. Have you ever seen you ride someone’s cock?” His course language was a delight and I laughed even harder. He gave me a few seconds before tapping on my thigh lightly. “Alright, as lovely as this is you have to get off before I start leaking.”

Gross. But fair. I lifted my hips, slightly amazed at how _big_ he still was and the delicious drag inside me as he slipped free. He went to the wash to dispose of the condom and I rolled to my side to watch. Holy fuck. What a fun ride.

He paused at the door on the way out when he realized I was staring. He struck a pose and I fell over myself laughing. That was a good sign. If you can’t laugh with the people you fuck you won’t be fucking for long. With as satisfying as this ride had been, I hoped to revisit it a few times that night.

Hence, when he went straight to his pants and started pulling them on I pouted. “Are you leaving?” I couldn’t believe it. That was the appetizer, right?

He sighed and gave me an apologetic look. “Kal.” I sighed and flopped back on the bed. Fuck. The very good dog friend. He’d pawned Kal off on his PA for the evening but she wasn’t interested in keeping him overnight. He came to the bed, leaning over me to press a kiss to my lips. I slid a hand up the back of this head and deepened it. “Stop. You’re terrible.”

“And you’re missing out on several more amazing rounds. Just so you know.” I leaned up on my elbows when he moved away to get his shirt. It was a god damned shame to see him pull the fabric over his head, covering that sinful chest.

I would like to ride his face, using those ridiculous pecs for balance.

_Fuck._

He gave me a dirty smile when he’d finished dressing. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

A grin spread across my face at the question. So this wasn’t going to be a one and done. Excellent. “I’m free tomorrow. Breakfast?”

He came to press another kiss to my lips. I gave as much as I could, leaving a promise for another spectacular day if he was interested. “I’ll text you.”

Eyes drowsy with a pair of mind numbing orgasms watched him walk out of the room. I let my body fall weightless to the bed and grabbed a pillow. I muffled the scream of joy in its downy softness, resolutely ignoring the responding laughter from the hallway.


	5. Chapter 5

Seven AM. The light of morning clawed at the edges of the curtains, compelling our brave heroine to rise and face the day. Through the shadows that still remained she ran drowsy fingers over sated skin. She _ached_ in the best way possible.

Nope. That sounded dumb.

She awoke from her feverish sex dream as the sturdy shape above her groaned her name, finishing strong within her supple body. Our heroine breathed deep, the smell of sex still lingering long after her actual lover had left her with her dreams. 

Okay, less dumb but kinda _sticky_.

Our heroine was roused by a shout in the hall, because of course she was this was a fucking convention, and groggily clawed at her phone until the screen lit up; 7 AM. It was an unfortunately normal wake-up time that she desperately loathed as she was on vacation. The sweet aches in her body probably had a hand in rousing her. She was _sore_ in the best possible way.

I opened my eyes and sighed. That was an accurate enough description of my 10 minutes of wakefulness. A sinful wet dream starring the man of last night interrupted by children running through the halls. I hadn’t checked my phone though; the seven AM was a guess based on how exhausted I still felt.

  
I squinted at the bright screen of my phone and then blushed crimson. Three texts. Two from last night:

  1. Cavill (23:23) Back safe.



  1. Cavill (23:25) Remind me again why we didn’t come the extra block back here?



I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow. I’d had that thought before I’d drifted off too. If we’d just taken the extra few minutes we could have stayed in his bed indefinitely. It was a very pleasant thought. I picked my phone back up and looked at the last message, received this morning.

  1. Cavill (6:57) Please tell me you’re up.



It was probably the beep of the incoming message that’d roused me. A smile flirted the edges of my lips as I unlocked my phone to respond.

Me (7:08) Yeah, just now. God damn kids at their god damn conventions.

I expected a text back but instead my phone rang, lit up with the photo that he’d laughingly added to his contact the night before. He was asking to face time. I declined video and connected audio. “You can’t ask to see a woman over the phone at this time of the morning.”

I could hear the low murmur of conversation in the background as Henry let out a huff. “Can’t blame me for trying. And thank you for being awake. Are you up for some guests?” An elevator dinged.

Every muscle in my body tensed at once, realizing that he must have been in the lobby, headed for my floor. I wanted to panic; he couldn’t see me here. Like this. Unkempt and oh God he would see me naked.

And then I remembered that I’m a whole ass adult and he’d had his face buried between my thighs eight hours prior. “Of course. But only if you bring coffee. Two creams, two sugars.” He muttered under his breath, some metallic clanking in the background. I heard him apologize for pushing past some people. He must have jumped out of the elevator.

“Wait. You said guests. You better mean that dog of yours or the invitation is rescinded.”

Another low, warm chuckle came in response. The sound settled in my abdomen and I sighed in pleasure. He huffed back, sounding upset. “We established this last night. You can’t make sounds like that in public.”

I stretched, letting out a satisfied groan and I giggled when he growled even louder. He was easy to tease. “ _You’re_ in public. I’m naked in bed. I’ll do what I want. Now. Fetch forth that coffee and come on up. I’m going to freshen up in the mean time.” I estimated I had about ten minutes before I’d have visitors.

I could almost see him roll his head to release tension. “Please. Don’t get dressed on my account. Please.” That almost sounded like begging and it made me grin. I disconnected with a laugh and rolled to my feet. Toilet, teeth, face, and go. True to my estimation, there was a knock on the door as I was finishing my morning routine. I glanced one last time in the mirror to make sure I’d gotten all the toothpaste off my face and then flashed myself a thumbs up. If I hadn’t been such a mature grown up I would have danced across the room.

The grinning face of Henry Cavill awaited me in the peep hole and I opened the door just a crack. He grinned. “Good. You’re here. Did you bring the goods?” He held up a drink carrier. I nodded. “Excellent. Come in, quick, before the munchkins see you. They’re restless this morning.”

His laughter echoed in the hallway and I held the door long enough for him to slip inside with Kal in tow. The curtains were finally open, soft sunlight streaming in. I dropped to a knee as soon as the door shut, calling out for the soft dog friend. He came immediately, taking his time to sniff around my face before turning and sitting in the circle of my arms. “Oh, what a good doggo. The actual best, aren’t you?”

Henry laughed at my pleasure but I ignored him, hands buried in soft fur and lips peppering kisses on Kal’s head. He panted up at me, leaning back to give my nose a lick. I could have cried I was so happy. Henry let me have my five minutes of joy as he wandered the room and looked at my things. I cracked an eye to watch him and my heart stuttered.

He was wearing more sinful jeans and a skin tight t-shirt. Head covered in a hat, his hair was curling at the nape of his neck again. He gave a quarter turn, one hand reaching out to pick up my itinerary. I had to bite my lip to keep from groaning at the sight of him outlined in the pants. I wasn’t as quiet as I’d hoped; he turned to give me a curious look and caught the unbridled lust I couldn’t hide.

His gaze darkened and he crossed the room to me. I gave him an innocent smile. “I like your dog.”

He gave me a wolfish grin in return. “I like him too. I also like you and would very much so like to say good morning.” A shot of nerves kept me in place. His look was intense, more so than I would have expected.

I buried my face in Kal’s throat. “What do you think good dog? Should I say hello to your owner?” I got a whine in response and Kal head butted me. I blinked and almost fell on my ass in shock. I guess that was a yes. Henry called Kal to him and the Akita dutifully went to his master’s side. My knees gave a creak as I stood and then I had two arms full of devastatingly tall and handsome Brit.

He threaded a hand into the hair at the back of my head while the other wound around my waist and hiked me up his body. I let out an oomph, a good oomph that was just surprised, before I got on board with the proceedings. I twined both arms around his neck, pulling myself higher and tighter as he devoured my mouth.

At least he didn’t have any morning after regrets. I sure as shit didn’t.

We separated at the sound of Kal’s whine behind us. Henry leaned his forehead into mine, a look of resignation on his face. “He doesn’t like it when I have lady guests.”

I pulled back to stare at him. “Seriously?” He nodded solemnly. What the _fuck? “_ But . . . we bonded. Your dog loves me.”

“He likes you. He doesn’t love you. Yet.” His eyes sparkled as he stared down at me, almost adoringly. There, in his left eye. He had a fleck of brown. How had I not noticed that before? I raised a hand and cupped his jaw, drawing his lips back to mine. After just a few short seconds of tonsil hockey Kal started whining again. I peaked over Henry’s shoulder, a dirty glare on my face. “I’ll be damned. He really doesn’t like lady guests. Well. I don’t want to disappoint him. Down.”

Henry did a full double take, rearing back like I’d punched him. “Down? Really?”

I nodded fervently. “Absolutely. If Kal’s not comfortable, I’m not comfortable.” No matter how wet my pussy may have gotten from his delicious sounds and undulations I wasn’t about the risk the wrath of Kal.

He was the number one friend, dog or not and I wasn’t stupid. Henry lowered me to the floor with a long put upon sigh, but he didn’t back up. Keeping me trapped against the door, his fingertips teased at the edge of the robe. “I distinctly remember telling you that you didn’t have to get dressed on my account.”

I took a long time, staring up at his cobalt gaze. He seemed disappointed, not irritated. Mildly inconvenienced instead of ignored. Some men, when they tell you a thing like that, expect obedience.

Obedience has never, _ever_ , been my thing.

“Lucky for you it comes off pretty quick. Fastest really when I’m cozy under the covers again.” Henry was right there with me, herding me back towards the bed.

  
Kal stood as we approached, his tail giving off little begging micro-wags. Henry held up a hand and gave him a firm command to lay down. The pup collapsed, head balanced on his front paws. My heart melted and I went to tell him how desperately in like I was with his dog but he kissed me. The kiss held the same passion as the night before, desperate and seeking. I gave into his demands, willingly, but again we only had seconds before Kal was growling.

“Fuck.” I let out a long, put-upon exhale. “Your dog is super cute but a total cock block.”

Henry’s face was blinding as he gave me a gentle shove and put me back on the mattress. “I know. But he’s like my best friend so he’s allowed.”

My groan was put-upon. “I suppose.”

Strong hands brushed against my clavicles, pushing soft terry cloth to the side. A delicate kiss followed on the left and then the right. “Now. If you don’t mind. Can we rewind to the part of the morning where you were naked in bed, thinking of me?”

I gave a throaty laugh and let him push the robe to the floor. My hands grabbed at the hem of shirt. “Who said I was thinking about you?”

I laughed as he practically jumped out of his clothes.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

With an over protective pupper at the foot of the bed, we kept the conversation light despite the nudity. It was novel, wrapping ourselves in the sheets or the comforter and hiding away when the questions got embarrassing.

“Have you really never seen any of my work?” He sounded so scandalized.

I stifled a giggle. “I didn’t say that. I said I hadn’t watched Superman. I’m probably more familiar with the Tudors than any human should be, honestly.”

His eyes lit up and he preened. “Oh, yeah? Was it my rugged portrayal that had you hooked?”

“Pfft. Hardly.” I gave him an eye roll, hoping he’d drop it. He must have seen the blush climbing up my chest though because he leaned in, eyebrows raised in question. “I spent a good amount of years completely in love with Jonathan Rhys Myers, okay.” 

It had been a pretty all consuming crush.

You could have slapped a ‘loading’ icon on him with the look on his face before he slipped in to what could only be described as abject joy. “Yeah? You want me to call him?”

“Oh my god no. No!” I grabbed after him as he made to fetch his phone from his pants. 

“It’s no problem, really. He’d love to hear-“

“Don’t you fucking dare. I will _leave,_ so help me God.” That brought him up short and he rolled back over to laugh at me. I pointed a finger at him menacingly, trying to convey the utter awfulness of his behavior. He caught the digit and sucked it into his mouth. “Hen, that’s cheating.” 

He grinned and swirled his tongue around my fingertip. A shudder ran through me and he looped an arm around my waist to pull me more snuggly to him. 

This man was going to be the death of me.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“Favorite color?”

“Maroon. Favorite season?”

“Autumn. Favorite food?”

“Italian or Sushi. Favorite movie?”

“Gladiator. Favorite quote?”

“Sometimes I do what I want to do. The rest of the time, I do what I have to.”

Henry looked up from where he was nuzzling my jaw with a questioning expression. “Favorite movie is also Gladiator, then?”

I giggled, hooking a calf around the back of his knee to pull him closer. He was all sorts of warm and we had folded into a knot of comfort. “That’s two questions for you.”

Very seriously, he harrumph. “That it is. What’s your next question?” 

I took my time to look over his face, feeling something imperceptibly had shifted. I didn’t like the thought because I couldn’t place what had done it. “Favorite location?”

He groaned, his face finding the crook of my neck so he could hide.

It was baffling, being wrapped up in him like this. I was protected. Warm and cared for. One hand rubbed gently at the base of his skull while the other roamed the planes of his back freely. He was so solid in my arms and yet somehow soft as well.

He muttered something I couldn’t catch and I pulled his head back so he would repeat the words.

We should probably have a very serious conversation about the noises he made when I pulled his hair.

It would drive me to distraction if we didn’t.

“I-. Honestly right now it is right here in this bed.” Fuck, there went my entire heart. 

I kissed the crown of his head and wrapped myself tighter around his body. He couldn’t see my face like this. Couldn’t see wonder in my eyes. This was suddenly a _dangerous_ path to be on rather than just a bit of fun for a weekend. I needed to turn my thoughts to something else, and quick. “To answer your question: yes. Gladiator is my favorite movie. It made me want to be a sword fighter.”

He pressed a kiss to the skin above my heart instead, his words a plea. “You can’t just _say_ things like that.”

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“Can he come up on the bed?” A dark head peaked up at our feet at my words. 

Henry groaned. “Yes-“ A paw appeared as well. “But no. Not right now. There’s no room for him, right now.”

We were pressed tight, the thin sheet between us doing approximately nothing to hide the heft of his cock. It also couldn’t hide the light undulations my hips were making. 

It was probably for the best that the dog wasn’t involved.

The paw disappeared along with the head and I burrowed deeper into Henry’s embrace. 

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“Ok.” It was physically painful but I pushed away from his warm body and sprawled on to my back. His hand gripped my hip, fingers flexing and unwilling to let me get too far. “It’s almost ten. We should get up.”

He didn’t whine, but he definitely pouted for a few moments while I stared over at him. His curls were an unruly mess and his left eyebrow was all fucked up from nuzzling various parts of my body.

I had the sudden urge to get on all fours and present myself for his mounting.

Ugh. He must have read the thought on my face, his hand catching my waist to pull me back to his body. He was hard against my hip and if I’d have wanted it, he was there for the taking. “I- I have to say. I’ve never been cock blocked by a dog before and I don’t think I like it.” No real blame on Kal. He was protective and I got that. But a woman had needs and the cute dog friend wasn’t helping.

Henry’s deep chuckle sent shivers down my spine and I bit back a whimper. 

God damn. Fuck. Lord, take me now. I wasn’t going to be surviving this disaster.

His nose rubbing affectionately against my temple, fingers flexing with more intent. “Cavill. Cavill, you have to stop or your dog is going to bite me.”

“He won’t bite you.” Lips captured my earlobe, his tongue flicking gently. The sensation sent heat to my lower abdomen and I gasped. Well, if he was sure who was I to argue? I arched my back, hip rubbing against his stiffening cock. We both groaned at that. He was ready. I could tell from the slip slide of my thighs that I was absolutely ready as well.

Curled into my side, Henry ran his fingers down my front. He took his time, circling a nipple and then heading south. My breath caught as the questing fingers slid to the cradle of my hips. Thighs parting, I opened to him without hesitation.

“Ow, fuck.” My feet jerked from the edge of the bed where a judgmental face stared back at me. “Kal! You bit me!” He gave a whine, tilting his head. Henry gasped and glared down at the dog.

“He didn’t. Did he? Mate, what the hell?”

It had just been a nip, startling me more than actually hurting. I lost my shit at the ridiculousness of the situation, collapsing back in a fit of giggles. Henry kept up the glare a few more seconds as Kal flattened his ears. “Oh my god, I can’t believe- your dog is the best and the worst, all at once.”

Henry inspected my toes, deeming them uninjured and scolded the Akita. “Kal. That was very rude. Come and apologize.” The bid dipped and I then I was being smothered by the dog. I laughed harder, my arms latching around the furry body. Kal showered me in kisses and it was getting hard to breathe. Death by dog apology. What a way to go. Henry saved me, patting Kal’s flank and ordering him off the bed.

It took a few gasps to recover and then I was laughing again at the fond expression on his face. “How are the pair of you even real?”

He was silent for longer than I would have expect. When he finally responded, it was accented with a playful tap on my thigh. “Let’s get up. The coffee was good but I require calories.”

I smirked up at the ceiling for a few seconds before his hand on my ankle brought me back to earth. Standing at my feet, pants slung low across his hips, Henry was giving me a look of pure adoration. I gulped, feeling my chest fill with emotion. Was it possible to fall in love with someone in a day?

_Fuck._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the lovely words and thank you for your patience. This is literally the worst time I've ever had working retail in November and I've seen some *shit* over the years. So. Maybe not so many quick updates but I'll do what I can.

“There’s a Trek panel at 2 I wanted to go to and I think Gearbox is doing a reveal of their next DLC. You like video games, right?” I had my nose buried in my phone, checking out the schedule I’d put together weeks ago. That was the thing with conventions like this. There was always so much to _do_ and you could build the perfect day of nerdery, non-stop. Sadly, no matter how well one planned, it was impossible to make everything, a combination of long lines and frantic four block dashes between hotels. Trek was on my must-make list but everything else was negotiable.

  
When Henry didn’t reply I risked a glance over at him. He’d been oddly quiet during lunch, hand firmly clasped around mine even as we ate. I hadn’t thought much of it but now it was feeling weird. He was giving me an oddly endearing look and I gave him a grin. Yeah, this was weird now.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I can’t really sit in on any panels. I’d just be a distraction.” I’d felt that on a very basic level, at breakfast, as he’d demolished more food than any one human should be able to consume in one sitting. There’d been giggles in the background, people trying to keep cool while taking photos. I didn’t think it bothered me; it was a facet of his reality and no one was really going to be that interested in me. But now, now I was at a crossroads. He had a very fair point: his very presence would disrupt the experience for myself. And everyone around us.

Which was disappointing because I really wanted to go to that Star Trek panel. Frakes and Spiner were notoriously hilarious when they were together. If I wanted to go, I’d have to go alone. “What if we disguised you? And stood in the back?”

He let out a laugh and drew to a stop. Pulling me around, he gave a tug until I was close to his side again. “I didn’t bring a wig. But, I could probably find one if you’d like.”

The thought of him in a wig was enough to send me into peals of laughter. He laughed along, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, jokingly trying to smother me. I didn’t fight it. Fuck no. I reveled in it, my own arms looped around his lower back to press us knees to noses. A girl could get used to this. A girl could also breathe, from time to time. I pushed him back gently. “A wig might be overkill but we could probably find something on the bourse floor. If you even want to go. I didn’t even think to ask.” I frowned and tilted my head up at him. He was a nerd. All nerds liked Star Trek, right?

“I would like to, very much so. But, a mask would be useful. Or maybe just hiding in the back of the room.”

I looked him over for a long moment. He didn’t shrink from my gaze, smiling down at me with affection. Seriously though; was it possible to fall in love overnight?

A small, evil voice in my head whispered, _Probably_.

This one was going to hurt. _A lot_.

He was conscious of our surroundings when he gave me a squeeze and a smile before stepping away. We were halfway between hotels, sans-Kal as the dog friend needed some down time in the hotel room. And hadn’t _that_ been a nightmare, being so close to an available bed again and not availing our selves of it. 

For a second, when I’d been leaning against the wall in the sitting room ( _he had a fucking sitting room in his hotel suite because of course he did)_ , I’d seen a flash of heat in his eyes. It would have been easy to shut Kal away for an hour or so and let Henry have his wicked way with me. I desperately wanted that. But there was the Star Trek panel. And Dragon Con came but once a year.

If I played my cards right hopefully I’d be coming a lot more than once in the next few days.

So, instead of extended nakedness I let Henry take me out to an early lunch at the hotel restaurant. Had laughed through an amazing meal and even better company. Had let him walk me down to the street where I’d begun my monologing. He’d kept a touch on me in some way the entire morning and now was no different as he put a hand on my lower back.

  
I found the steady weight of his fingers to be reassuring rather than directive and I appreciated that about him more than he would ever know. When he gave me a grin I responded in kind before tapping him on the chest. “Well, then let’s get you a disguise. That panel is in 30 minutes and it’s not going to watch itself.”

He let me pull him towards the vendors, a few blocks away at the Marriott. Somewhere on the way, he found an empty alleyway and my attention was pulled from the schedule once more. I laughed at him as he crowded me to a wall, both hands coming up to bracket my head against the concrete. I was more than willing as he pressed needy kisses onto my lips and I groaned at the feeling of him. 

Henry was all-consuming, whether he was buried balls deep or staring across a table at me. 

It was incredibly flattering.

And it also felt incredibly dangerous.

I arched up into him, pressing as much of myself up into him as possible. He was just so fucking _big_ , literally all encompassing. His scent was dizzying; in combination with his hands cradling my jaw I was beyond comprehension of my surroundings.

Everything was Henry and nothing hurt.

When he pulled back, I whimpered and tried to follow but he held me still.

Not going to lie, that was fucking hotter than I expected it to be. His lower body was pushed tightly against mine, a thick thigh holding me up and offering prime real estate should I wish to avail myself to some friction. One of his hands kept my head still while the other slid down my arm to grab my fingers before they could find the waistband on his jeans.

He was absolutely still for a few moments, concentrating hard one something.

The tinny sounds of James Brown’s _I Feel Good_ drifted up from his back pocket. I did a double take at the embarrassed look on his face. “Is that your _phone_?”

He gave a little shrug before swooping in to give me another kiss. The song kicked up again and he pulled back to answer it. I attempted to reassemble my sanity as he stepped away to take the call. It sounded like his PA, Kylie. 

My brain tuned out their conversation as I looked back out at the main drag. It was a truly beautiful day, a balmy 22 degrees and sunny. I should have worn a hat too. As it was, I had to bring up a hand to shade my eyes because I’d just caught sight of an amazing Borderlands cosplay. That crazy feeling of _too much excitement_ shot through me and I literally bounced. It was vibrant here, in this place.

Warm hands slid around my waist from the back and I let out a satisfied hum. Henry was warm and solid behind me, lips grazing the junction of my neck and shoulder. He was just so _rude_ sometimes. 

“This is going to sound like a copout but apparently I’m being summoned for press.”

I pressed my eyes closed and enjoyed the feel of him for another moment. As with the onlookers at the restaurant this was his life. He took several deep breaths, face still pressed to my skin, and I _shivered_ at the thought that he was trying to memorize the smell of me.

It was very much so a _BOOM! Panty Soup!_ moment.

“Kylie doesn’t think it’ll take long. But, you had panels you wanted to do this afternoon. Do you want text me when you’re done?” He left the question open ended as though the second he disappeared from my sight I’d forget all about the good dick I was now totally expecting to get this weekend.

I turned in his arms and could have sighed in amusement as his worried eyes. He was adorable. And strangely insecure, possibly? That was weird. Hot dudes weren’t insecure.

Right?

I pressed a kiss to his nose and then ducked my face to nuzzle at his jaw line. He laughed at me but let me have my moment, enjoying the feel of his quickly forming beard against my skin. “Text me when you’re done. I’ll come running.” It only sounded _slightly_ desperate and I could live with that. I supposed.

He gave me a grin and captured my lips again. Honestly, I couldn’t remember a time I’d been so dick drunk, swapping spit in alleys and trading secrets under the sheets in the soft morning light. Probably my early twenties, so long ago now that it might have happened to another woman entirely.

  
Here. _Now_. Henry was pressing up against me one more time before giving my hand a squeeze and disappearing around a building.

I let my head fall back and my eyes fall shut. _Le sigh._

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

It was weird going to the Trek panel. Spiner and Frakes were in fact hilarious, doing lots of amazing shtick between the two of them that made a very small and excited seven year old inside me happier than I could ever properly articulate.

No joke, at one point Spiner started singing Data’s life forms song and my very soul transcended reality.

It was everything I could have hoped for, but I just wished Henry would have been able to join me. 

It was well into the afternoon. I texted after each panel, letting him know where I was and what I was doing. That wasn’t too weird, right? I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve assumed correctly that we’re both the weird one in this . . . relationship but the man told me to text and I did.

And what did it mean when he didn’t text back?

I chewed on a fingernail as I reread my latest message.

Me (3:57): Borderlands DLC is going to be so sexy I might lose my ever loving mind.

Pure nerd. Totally fine. That was the sort of thing friends texted all the time. I’d sent the same message to three other people. They’d all responded and Henry hadn’t. 

There was a weight sitting in my chest. It wasn’t a fresh weight but it had some serious heft. It had situated itself there about seven months ago when one day, my Instagram notifications had exploded. No joke, no if-ands-or-buts, Henry had made my career. I hadn’t asked him why yet, but he had done it and I owed him _literally everything_.

I owed him a quiet cabin 5 kilometers outside Red Cliff, Alberta. A small tract of land with a lot of _feelings_ _of a home long denied_ tied to it. I owed him security, both financially and creatively. And most recently I owed him for the smile on my face that wouldn’t quit.

That smile faltered, just a bit, as I stared down at my phone. It was almost 4:30. Food was a thing that needed to happen soon and Rachel wanted to touch base for my day tomorrow. Tomorrow was Saturday and meant a 9 AM panel on Women in Fantasy followed by another round of signing and then some publicity junket for up and coming authors.

Henry Cavill sold over 125,000 copies of my book in the 7 months since he’d recommended it on his socials. At that very moment I really just wanted to get my hands on him to give him another thank you.

  
But he wasn’t. answering. his. texts.

I took a deep breath. I wasn’t irritated. I was just hungry. Like normal.

Where was I again? I looked at the bland halls and nodded to myself. At the Westin. This was the least party-centric hotel of all the hosts which is why they tended to stick guests here. All the fun happened in the giant ball rooms in the basement. I had a whole room upstairs that probably _still_ smelled like Henry.

My feet carried me to the elevators without complaint. I felt kind of exhausted despite the early hour and a nap wouldn’t have gone amiss.

A ding from my pocket had me digging for my phone as the elevator slowed on my floor.

H. Cavill (16:33): I hope you never have the ridiculous bureaucracy in your life that I have to deal with.

I giggled and covered my mouth with a hand. He’d texted back, finally. It was a dumb text but it was a text.

Me (16:33): I’m so sorry your fame and fortune are encroaching on your life. Might I suggest a nap? I’m headed back to my room.

The typing icon hovered on our conversation as I stepped out of the elevator on my floor. I got about half way up the hallway before I sighed and locked the screen. Maybe not.

And then my feet slowed, then stopped. Leaning against the wall next to my hotel room was none other than Henry. He slid me a sly sideways grin and typed away at his phone. My own dinged and I looked at it.

H. Cavill (16:35): Naps are always a good idea. You’re cute when you’re naked.

Just like that. My face turned a humiliating shade of red. Henry had caught sight of me, though, straightening all for me. _It’s all for you, Liv. Better appreciate it while you can._ I pushed that voice out of my head and let my feet start working again. 

“Are you done with stuff for the day?” I punctuated my question with delicate finger tips trailing up his left biceps. He really was _fit._ I couldn’t even begin to imagine why he’d ever find someone only a few years younger than him with a BMI floating around 25 attractive but here we were.

And there were definitely no taksies backsies unless one of us really meant it. He unfurled his arms, catching the teasing hand. Bringing my fingers to his lips he pressed a kiss to my palm that just about melted every inch of me. “Wanna come take a nap?” That got me another nod and a dark look that did not translate as a need for a nap. It translated as a need for some naked time.

I got the door open, the door shut, and my shoes off before I was picked up bodily and born to the bed with a huff. Henry halted our descent, managing somehow to wedge me underneath his large frame, but only enough that I would feel him _everywhere_.

_Fuck_. Again.

“I have been thinking about what you look like coming on my mouth _all day.”_

Every circuit in my brain shorted all at once with his husky words. I tried to offer a rebuttal but it was drown in a moan as he leaned back to assess my situation. Deft fingers plucked at the hem of my shirt. I leaned up and he snatched it off, depositing it somewhere by the washroom. A questing hand found the button of my shorts. I lifted my hips so he could slide them past my feet.

I was in my under ware, skin heating beneath his gaze. “Hen- you’re a little overdressed.” His eyes were fastened at the apex of my thighs, fabric surely darkening with my growing desire for him.

He _licked his lips._

My own mouth watered with the idea of him going down on me. 

Oddly enough, though, I was 100% raring to go with the idea of him throwing my legs over his shoulders and fucking me through the mattress. He looked down, fingers teasing at my panties, and then looked back up at my face. He smirked at the look on his face, leaning down to kiss the inside of one knee. “You’re beautiful when you think about me eating you out. I mean, you’re fucking gorgeous when I’m doing it but you have this blessed out expression right now and it’s insanely flattering.”

I swallowed the moan back and tried to go for the sass to cover my dumb joy. “I feel like your sample size is too small for that claim. You’ve only done it the once.” 

A giant hand encircled one of my calves and he pulled it over his thigh. Even more exposed like this I had to take a giant breath; no need to panic. This is going to fucking rock. The fingers followed the line of my leg, all the way to my center. I keened as his hand made contact with my delicate mound. “Fuck Hen. How are you so good with your fingers?”

Any response he might have given was lost in the feel of him working me. The cotton covering me was sticky and he flirted with the edges of the garment without ever dipping underneath. It was a rough contrast but an effective one.

“I like it when you say my name like that.”

I had to pause and go back through my mental rolodex to locate the source of that nonsequitor. His fingertips increased their pressure on my clit with tight little circles. I let my hips rise and I searched for more friction. In response, one large hand cradled a hip, keeping me still. “Hen? Is that your go-to nickname?”

He loomed large, bent in half while still rubbing lazy circles over my clit. “Normally, no. Just for friends. Right now? Absolutely yes right now. _Say it again_.” He fluttered his ministrations and I bit back a moan.

Instead, I threw my head back and ground out, “Don’t fucking stop that feel so good, Hen.”

He let out a self satisfied growl and then disappeared. Gaping, I cracked my eyes to protest. I’d just told him not to stop and he runs off and-

My disappointment was short lived as I opened my eyes to find him stripping of his jeans. The boxer briefs followed in another quick movement. I bit my lip at the sight; just as delicious as I remembered.

Tonight, I decided. I was going to suck him off until completion tonight.

In the meantime, though . . . my legs spread wide as he fetched a condom from the side table. When he was properly gauntleted he rejoined me on the bed. “Is this okay?” I could have cried, once more, with the actual fucks he seemed to give about making this good for me. I nodded enthusiastically and hooked the back of a leg around a hip. Henry surged forward, using his strength to crowd me towards the headboard.

My breath caught in my throat as I felt the tip of that astonishing cock push against my entrance. He caught my eyes and pressed his forehead to mine before he started _pressing_ somewhere else. I was plenty wet to take him but the _stretch_ was still so foreign it was overwhelming. “Liv, breathe for me.” 

I’d been holding my breath without thinking about it and it all came rushing out on a satisfied exhale. He took advantage, sheathing himself fully and a needy whine escaped my lips. His low chuckled caught on the tail end of it and if I hadn’t been so . . . everything I might have given him shit about it. Instead, I let my head drop back, a pleasant wince on my features. It wasn’t bad. Far from it, I felt impossibly full yet again and wasn’t sure how to process all the emotions flying through me at that very moment.

“Just let me know when you want me to move.”

He was a wonder. Completely incalculable.

I took a few more deep breaths before I nuzzled his jaw and nipped at the well defined feature. “I’m good. And I want you to fuck me.” Henry leaned back, his eyes tripped over mine, as he searched my face. 

I didn’t think I’d asked him to do anything he’d be uncomfortable with.

  
Two large hands fastened themselves to my hips and I knew I hadn’t pegged him wrong. Sometimes Henry really just loved to let go and guck someone through a mattress.

I was happy to oblige, if that wasn’t clear before.

He picked up speed, hips pistoning with precision on every stroke. That perfect dick inside me was ringing every bell I had but one. My fingers flew to my clit, feeling the moment when Henry would hit that go spot. He growled at the motion, his one free hand coming up to join mine.

In a surreal moment, Henry let me guide his fingers with the perfect pressure and timing, sending me careening over the edge into orgasm. He didn’t let me drift through it, clamping hands around my thighs and going to for all he was worth. I wasn’t going to come again but I was primed for round two, and three, as I watched his curls fly. Desperate blue eyes searched my face for some kind of absolution before rolling back in his head.

Henry roared and I grinned. My little, rarely used pussy had done that. 

It was a good day. All things said and done. And it wasn’t even five yet.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Rachel texted me around 6, reminding me that she needed to meet with me for the next day. I blacked out the screen and settled back into the arms that had wrapped around me. Henry resettled his hands, one on my pouch and one on my left breast. His heavy inhales were buried in the back of my neck and I melted.

Henry was so very touch driven and having been alone for so long it was almost a little overwhelming. Overwhelming but really not at all unwelcome. I’d let him know if I wasn’t okay with what we were doing. This, right here and right now, was so perfect and happy-making that I didn’t even want to get up.

But alas. 

Work called.

I slipped from his grasp and went to take a shower. The water ran hot over my fingers and I nodded, wanting that extra feeling of clean. Normally I’d want to remember a man’s touch on my body in perpetuity but I really should get my grown up pants on.

I’d majorly lost track of my goals for this weekend: promote my books! Get everyone hyped for the next one, in its final stage of edits. Sell my ideas to a network and rake in the acclaim.

So far I’d: promoted my books! Made friends with the dude who’d given me the boost I’d needed to make it to the big times. Flirted my way through the meet-and-greet with the people who were going to be giving me my next paycheck hopefully. Fucked said attractive benefactor. Twice now.

Hopefully a few times more.

I let out a huff of frustration. I really was too old for this honey moon bullshit but he was literally everything I’d ever been looking for in a man. Obviously attractive, cares about his appearance. _Nice; genuinely nice_. A huge giant nerd. One hand slid down my front as the hungry look he’d shot me before devouring me the night before popped in my head. A giant nerd with a magic tongue and enough wherewithal to finish the job every time.

My moan was quiet but fierce.

The answering groan almost popped me out of my skin. I whirled to find Henry peeking in through the far end of the curtain. He was naked with his proud cock fisted tightly. He bit his lip, his hand making an intentional journey to his root and back up. I could swear I saw his eyes darken two shades with just the one stroke. I let my fingers delve a little deeper in my folds, let myself enjoy the pleasure as much as he was.

I got just one more grasp out before he let out a warning growl and climbed right into the shower with me. He was frantic, hands caressing and fingers plucking all the sensitive parts. He had a leg buried between mine before I really comprehended what he was doing. 

He’d given me enough leverage that I could easily move my body, sliding up and down his thigh with the gentlest motion of my ankles. I gave him an experimental rub and was rewarded with a bone numbing pleasure. His thigh was so thick and it hit all the parts of me I wanted rubbing against him. Both his hands rose, covering my breasts. There were quite sensitive and it felt like I would jump out of my skin when he pinched my nipples in concert. “Oh Liv. Like that do you?” He coo’d and I keened, overwhelmed with his ministrations. My pussy clenched around empty air but my clit sure didn’t care. It was singing every time I rocked my hips forward and I knew it wouldn’t take long. Henry’s left hand fell away and I wanted to cry out in frustration when his mouth replaced it. 

“Fuck, Hen. Yes. Please.” So needy, these thready words he was ripping from my throat. He doubled his efforts with his mouth which he reached down to help me move. The pressure, previously quite adequate, became uncontrollable as he rocked me on his thigh. I was going to-

“Fuck! _Fuck, Hen-“_ My words gave out at the same time as my legs and he caught me easily. Cradling me gently, Henry pressed urgent kisses to my temple. I let him kiss me back to existence. The shower was hitting his back and sending little droplets over the two of us. I had to squint just to see him. And see him I did. He was fully erect, leaned over me and looking absolutely _debauched_. The damn curls clinging to his head were just another indication that he’d plum run out of fucks. This almost felt like the time to go down on him but I told myself, not yet. That would come that evening after he’d fed me and we’d pretended to socialize while really dying to just be alone again.

Instead I pulled the curtain back to pluck a spare condom from my kit.

Sliding home for the third time in 24 hours, Henry still felt huge. I’d bent at the waist, finally presenting myself for his pleasure, and he had enthusiastically jumped right into the proceedings.

It shouldn’t be _possible_ to feel this full and still feel so good. He had a grip on a hip and the other on my shoulder.

All the better to drive me down on to that cock. He took the first few strokes slow, watching himself disappear into my waiting body. “You’re so tight, fuck it feels like to battle to push inside you, Liv.”

I had huffed through those first strokes, letting my body adapt to the stretch but his words were my undoing. I threw my head back in ecstasy. Every down stroke rubbed that spot inside of me, sending me shocks up my spine. He was far too good at manipulating me and I was going to come again. “Hen, hold my hair. Put me exactly where you’d like me to be.”

It was a good line, tested and true, and Henry followed tradition. He roared as he wrapped my hair up in one hand. The motion forced me to arch my back. It changed the angle of his cock inside me and I wanted to sob. It was just so _fucking good_. My fingers slid over the mess I’d made in my nether lips. They pushed gently against Henry as he pistoned inside me before settling heavy on my clit.

Three quick rubs and I was squeezing my eyes shut. My walls fluttered around him and I could tell the exact moment he lost control. His fists tightened and my eyes rolled back farther. He was going to leave bruises and I was going to cherish them as long as they were on my body.

I braced as he shook behind me, letting him come down the same way he’d cradled me. It didn’t take long before he was pulling out. I straightened, working the kicks out of my back. His hands slid up my ass, chasing goose bumps, and he rubbed at my hip bones. “I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news but it’s rude to leave men unattended in your bed. They might get frisky.” His smooth voice was accented by a nip to an ear lobe. I turned my face and captured his in a kiss.

“Good thing I don’t mind frisky.”

Henry’s soft harrumph was as sweet an answer as I could ever hope for


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out after a shitty day of work, sleeping in until 10 and writing is a great way to relax. So, enjoy the slightly short chapter.

The clock on my bedside read 5:36. Twenty four minutes before I had to be in the lobby to meet Rachel. And I was still fantastically naked, sheets pooling around my hips as Henry’s mouth worked magic on my pussy. It was leisurely, one finger crooked inside while he licked delicately around my folds. Warmth suffused my entire body and made me sleepy. I let out a content sigh and my eyes drifted closed. They shot right back open when his lips closed tight around my clit, shocking me back into full awareness. I smirked down my body, knowing he’d caught me luxuriating.

His right eyebrow had hit his hairline, daring me to look away again.

I couldn’t even blink as he increased suction. A second finger joined his first and I fisted his curls gently. He hummed at the feeling and my hips stuttered. He couldn’t just _do that-_

“Fuck, yes. Right there. Don’t stop, _Henry-_ “ My wail was cut short as my orgasm washed over me, curling my toes into the blanket and robbing me of bodily control. Henry laughed through it, his head resting against my hip as he watched my ecstasy.

He was so casually sexy and flawless and I hated him, just a bit, as I drifted down. 

“I can’t _begin_ to express how much I enjoy watching you cum.” He gave me a toothy grin, his chin glistening and his teeth sharp. Predatory and sated, finished with a feast. When I tugged at him, desperate for some skin to skin contact, he came easily enough. His large frame bracketed mine as he rolled me onto his chest. He was half hard and I pressed my thigh up into him, questioningly.

Henry dropped a kiss on my forehead and sighed into my hairline. His clean hand came up to brush at the baby hairs at my temple and I sank into the touch. “’s fine. You have to start getting ready soon.”

“Wanna come?” He let the question hang for a long time and I risked a glance up at him. He was staring off into a middle space, lost in some thought he wasn’t willing to share. His finger stilled their gentle movements as he realized I was watching him. A smile. A kiss pressed to my nose. He shook his head. 

“Kal needs a good walk and I need to get in an evening workout. There’s a gym in uptown that caters to film crews that’ll let me crash for a couple hours.”

Well. Fair enough. One didn’t get the body of a god through sex and food alone. It probably didn’t hurt but definitely was not the defining factor. “Is that normal? Multiple workout sessions a day?” I remembered he’d gone running when he’d woken, before the cuddling and Kal. It felt like it had been literal days since those soft moments and it had been less than 12 hours.

“When I’m going to be shooting soon, yeah. Otherwise it’s like once a day to maintain and then video games for the rest of it.” His arm tightened imperceptibly around my shoulders. “Or reading good books. Normal nerd stuff.”

I laughed, pure joy bubbling up in my chest. “Have I actually thanked you, Henry? I know I said it yesterday but I don’t know if I actually articulated how _grateful_ I am for what you did.” I sounded star struck. I was aiming for poised but there was desperation in my need to make him understand exactly what he’d given me.

Warm lips brushed my forehead again. “I wouldn’t have accepted if your book wasn’t worth my time. I don’t normally get asked to promote fiction, never before in fact, but Liv: I was so entranced. From the minute I picked up _Congruous_ to the moment I put down _Vine Wars_ I was living in that world. It’s so hard to find media like that anymore.”

My mind skipped right over the first couple sentences and straight into his praise. I blushed from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes at his words. I knew I was a good writer; I didn’t need some hot actor telling me while he idly combed my hair with his stupid long fingers. While my body was still humming from the amazing orgasm he’d just ripped from my loins.

It sure didn’t fucking hurt to hear though.

My phone rang, a techno cover of the Tetris theme blasting through the room. Henry tightened instinctively, startled by the sound. I valiantly tried not to lose my shit at his surprise. He’d likely been overly relaxed, not expecting the sharp drop. I personally was always prepared for a sick beat drop. 

He looked genuinely affronted when I reached over to silence the noise. “Is that _your_ phone?!”

I giggled and pushed him away a bit as I picked up the call. “Hey Rachel. We still on for six?”

“Yes. Which is why I’m calling. To remind you. Because it is 5:56 and I haven’t seen your shining face in the lobby yet. Which makes me think you’re still upstairs.” I giggled as Henry traced a hand down my spine, trying to distract me. “Liv. Don’t laugh at me. Put your shoes on.” His lips followed his fingers and I had to hold back a breathy sigh of pleasure. Rachel was reaching critical irritation mass, which was ridiculous because I hadn’t even seen her that day to bother her.

“Yeah, okay. I’m on my way.” I hung up before I could make any other untoward noises and dropped my phone on the side table. Henry rolled me over, pulling me under him again to ravish my mouth. I grabbed tight to his ribs, molding my body up against his. I wanted to memorize the feel of him for the long hours ahead.

But.

I did have work to do.

He sensed me withdrawing and freed me from my clutches. “A good bye kiss. To keep your thoughts busy while you’re in meetings. Just like you did to me all day.” I blushed. _Again._ How was he even real?

“I’d invite you back later but . . . maybe a different venue tonight?”

He squinted for a second, not comprehending my meaning. “Well, l definitely want to see you again once we’re both free.”

“Yes. Absolutely. But, maybe somewhere with a door that can restrain an overly protective dog so he doesn’t nip my toes again.”

Henry rolled his head back and laughed, realizing what I was after. “Yes. Yes, you can come back to my room tonight. Bring an overnight bag if you’d like.”

I would like. I really really would.

My phone beeped: an incoming text. It was now 6:01 and I was still naked. “Okay. Okay we have to get up. I need underwear.” I slipped from the sheets and started digging through my suitcase. There was a beautiful dark blue silk dress that was just the right side of casual for an informal business meeting somewhere in there. 

Henry came up behind me, hands on my hips, as he leaned over to kiss my neck. I straightened for him, only pouting a little to see that he was dressed. “I’m going to take off before I throw you back on the bed and delay you further.” His fingers traced my neck with his words, eyes roving my face and waiting for the blush he knew would follow. His grin was cheeky and he pressed his lips to mine in a final farewell. Our comfort level around each other was peak; the kind of intimacy that came from months of tentative hand holding that morphs into mind blowing sex. We’d taken the fastest track possible and come out cupping cheeks and nuzzling jaw lines. 

There was a hole in my heart that had long sat empty. Somehow in a day Henry had managed to pour just the smallest amount of warmth into it and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. I pushed down a strange rising panic and gave his flank a squeeze in farewell. My eyes followed him from the room. Scratch that. I stared after that ass like I was dying of thirst and it was the first drop of water I’d seen in a month. He laughed, one last time, catching the look on my face. I sighed as the door shut. 

I was doing something. What was I-

Oh. Yes. Clothes. To go do adult, non-sexual things.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Having been twenty three whole minutes late meeting up with Rachel, I was forced to suffer through Waffle House. Her choice. Because we were in a place that had a Waffle House and she was just _dying_ to see if it was as greasy and terrible as she’d always heard. It was and I did my level best to avoid looking horrified as I stared down at the health information printed on the menu. This was not the venue for a business meeting.

“How can you even want to eat this stuff, Rachel?”

She wave a hand at me dismissively and pulled out a thick binder. Her bible, she called it, full of all the things she might ever want to know about my schedule at any given point in time. “I’m not even going to ask what you got up to today. That smirk and your non-stop blushing is self explanatory.” I blushed. _Again_. “Just so long as you weren’t doing anything untoward in public. It’s one thing for Henry Cavill to be your fan. It’s another thing entirely if you two are behaving like horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off one another. You’ll lose credibility and it’ll make it a lot harder for us to sell the books as a TV series.”

I frowned at her words, picking at my French fries. We weren’t acting like randy teenagers. We’d only done adulty, grown up stuff in public. I thought back to the backrub by the pool from the night before. Okay, that had probably not been appropriate. Rachel had a calculated look on her face as she observed me. “I’m serious Liv. It might feel like good publicity but being attached to Cavill as a _fuck buddy_ would be a death toll for your career.”

What a hell of a thing to say. “A fuck buddy, Rachel? Really? First of all, who I’m sleeping with is none of your concern.” She pulled at my arm, trying to calm my rapidly rising voice. “Second-“ I readjusted in my seat, dropping my voice down. “Second, what if it’s not just fucking?” I looked _guilty,_ trying to hide how this whole thing was beginning to feel.

Her golden eyes stared straight into my soul as she immediately picked up what I was putting down. “It’s been 30 hours, Liv.”

“Yeah. But-“

She shook her head, “No. It’s been 30 hours. You have all the fun you like, just do it away from prying eyes and remember that when Sunday afternoon rolls around you’re going to be on a plane headed for NYC. Because you have contractual obligations. And Henry Cavill will be . . . wherever it is Henry Cavill will be.” She opened the binder, her signal that she was ready to begin discussing the more important parts of her job. I fumed, leaning back with my arms crossed, and gave her the barest nods when she asked if I understood what I needed to do. This wasn’t my first convention. There was nothing out of the ordinary here.

_Except for the 6’1” man who wanted to keep me naked and under him at all times._

“Well, since this is clearly boring you and you completely understand everything you need to do tomorrow maybe I should just go back to Calgary. Let you handle the rest of this press tour on your own.” She was being overly dramatic.

But. She was also just doing her job. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just hung up on the Cavill thing. You’ve known me almost a year. You know I don’t . . . hook up like this. It’s a bit overwhelming and I don’t understand your warning.” She opened her mouth to interrupt but I held up a hand. “I don’t understand but I can accept you have experience dealing with the media and shit. Lord knows I really don’t.”

Finally, she looked satisfied that she’d gotten through to me. “This is one of those things you don’t really need to dig into. It’s best we leave it alone publically so it doesn’t get too messy.”

That was probably going to be an understatement. I knew myself well enough to realize I’d caught a case of feelings for Henry. He seemed pretty fond of me too but this wasn’t tenable in the long term. I had a book to write. He apparently needed to fuck off to _Hungary_ , he’d said, to film the Witcher. That I was probably going to hate because I was so constantly underwhelmed by film adaptations that I was probably self-sabotaging my own series.

I blinked away from Rachel and looked out the window, trying to wrap my head around that realization. It’d been very easy to have a few drinks and flirt with Henry as we mingled last night because I _didn’t want my books being adapted._ Wasn’t that a hell of a thought?

Regardless of whether I would have ever considered dating Henry if we had met like normal people, it just wasn’t a thing.

That super duper did not mean I didn’t want to take advantage of the gifts God had given me until I had to let them go. And Rachel was right. I just had to be smart about it.

My phone peeped as we were wrapping up the bill and I unlocked it to find a very sweaty Henry grinning at me through a mirror. The gym behind him was dimly lit, offering more of a suggestion of his form. _Holy Fuck_. I took a deep breath, my gaze to the heavens as I tried to calm my spiking heart beat.

I was a grown ass woman having the best weekend of sex of her life.

I could handle this.

“Holy fuck, Liv.” Rachel had tipped my screen towards her and I saw color rise on her cheeks as well. It was deeply satisfying to know that even a heartless creature like Rachel wasn’t immune to his charms. “Well, at least that explains most of it.”

I quirked an eyebrow, picking the phone back up to stare at the photo. “Most of what?” He’d framed it so that I could see the sliver of a grin, one vibrant blue eye staring into the camera. It should be illegal, to look that good so effortlessly.

“It doesn’t matter. Now, back to business. Do you have any actual questions about tomorrow? I know it’s old hat and it’s going to feel a lot like C2E2 but I want you to be prepared. Especially since 9 AM is going to come awfully early.” She shot me a measured look over the folder, as though she knew exactly why I was twenty three minutes late meeting her for dinner.

I shook my head, eyes finding that photo again. I gulped and blacked out my phone. “Nope. I’m good. I’ll set a couple of alarms to make sure I get back in time to change.”

She raised a finger to scold me for suggesting I might not make it back to my room that night before she let out a sigh of resignation. “Fine. If you need anything tonight, text. Don’t call. I’m meeting up with a . . . friend and I don’t need your giggles interrupting my evening.”

“Oooo, Rachel. You got a date?” After her giving me so much shit over dinner I felt as though I needed to return the favor. My ice queen rarely melted. I’d seen it once before and the faint blush that rose to her cheeks was charming. “Hell yeah; what’s her name?”

I got a head shake, that binder closing stiffly in front of Rachel, and a scoff. “Nunya.” 

She stood to go and I grabbed her hand. “You can’t leave yet. I need more information. If she worthy of your time? Do I need to give her a stern talking to? She has to be careful or she’ll break your heart.”

Rachel pulled free, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder with a growl. “I suggest you go get ready for the rest of your evening and I’ll do the same.”

I wasn’t done with her, holding out a hand. “No, wait. I know how delicate you are sometimes.”

She held up a middle finger over one shoulder as she walked away and I dissolved into laughter. She was a delight. I couldn’t wait to give her so much shit in the morning. But, the morning was a long ways away and I had a Hen to find.

Me (20:21): Rachel is sort of the worst. I’d like to cuddle your dog and forget about her.

H. Cavill (20:21): I see how it is. You’re really just interested for the dog, aren’t you?

I smirked as my fingers modified his contact and I typed out a reply.

Me (20:22): He is a heckin’ good boy. 12/10 stars, would pet literally any time.

Hen (20:22): I suppose we could cuddle up with him a bit but my plans for most of the night are distinctly not dog-friendly.

I melted. I melted into a puddle right there in that Waffle House. The stale smells and the racket of people enjoying life faded away and I held that thought tight for a long time. Me, Kal, and Henry curled up on a couch. It felt tinged with something that could be labeled as _home_. 

I sobered because Rachel had been right. 

I would be in another state in two days. He would be off wherever he’d be. And my heart would bear the brunt of exposing itself once more.

At what point did I have to put my foot down and try to save myself? Could I? Should I even try? I’ve always been a firm believer that one should try to experience as much life as possible because we never know how much we’ll get. Was it worth months of sadness for a weekend of joy?

Another picture popped up on my phone: mostly Kal’s smiling face with Henry hiding everything but his eyes behind the dog’s ears. _Fuck._

Me (20:27): Are you all done?

Hen (20:27): Showering directly. Dinner?

Me (20:27): You can eat; I’ve had my fill of fries. I’m really digging this movie idea, though.

I smiled softly as I let the thought back out.

Hen (20:29): Fine. But only if I get to keep you overnight.

I couldn’t think of anything witty to send back. That last text dropped my stomach with its earnest simplicity. I sent a thumbs up back in response. It looked ridiculous, such a shit response to such a romantic message but that was the best I had. Lists. Lists would help me focus. I needed to go back to my room and pack up toiletries and probably a change of clothes. And definitely all the condoms.

As much as present me should probably worry about this crushing reality that was, oh, two days away, that was a problem for future me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to be upset that people are guess Rachel’s up to some shit but I’ve dropped enough hints that I’d be sad if someone hadn’t picked up what I was putting down. Mental health is always hard. As we all struggle through the constantly changing hell scape that is 2020 I hope we can find someone who knows, intuitively, what we each need. 
> 
> One last thing: Hell Week (tm) starts tomorrow. Y’all probably won’t see me until Thursday. If I don’t drink my self stupid as soon as I wake up. Have a safe holiday.

Hen (20:56): Have you left yet? I don’t want to miss you.

I grinned at the message, taking the steps up to the front of the hotel two at a time. The doorman gave me a grin which I returned. “You are Ms. Orton, yes?”

Creepy. I gave him a slow nod, and pulled up at the question. “Very good. Mr. Cavill has asked that you join him in the lobby bar. He has a surprise for you.” I blinked up at him, dumbfounded. What a weird fancy ass hotel.

The doorman gestured inside and I headed in. I knew roughly where I was going from our venture earlier in the day. The Ritz was way beyond my comfort levels as far as uppity rich things were concerned but according to Henry, it was the only place that still had availability when he’d decided to show up a few months ago.

Having had my hotel booked more than 9 months ago, I knew that was pretty common for Atlanta during Dragon Con weekend. The only people who could swing last minute trips were _rich_. Like, _dumb rich._ Like, a whole wall of stupid portraits of stuffy old people in the lobby rich. I laughed as I shook my head. The bar wasn’t far and I followed the sounds of clinking glasses. The wood grew darker the farther I ventured from the front door; I half expected a wave of cigar smoke when I finally came through the arch delineating the bar.

No smoke but there was the man of my weekend, smiling with his hair still damp. Henry leaned casually against the bar, hands gesturing rather wildly as he talked to someone else. I felt my heart skip a few beats at the sight of his gorgeous face.

Maybe there’d be a day when seeing him with a joyful smile wouldn’t give me a heart arrhythmia. Today was definitely not that day though.

His grin stretched even wider as he caught sight of me and I tried to keep a dumb expression off my face. We were in public. I needed to play it cool. _Nice and cool, don’t do anything dumb. Don’t trip on your feet. Just, nice and_ easy. I kept up the façade for all of ten seconds until the man Henry had been talking to turned to look at me too.

I know, I know. You’re thinking to yourself how did I not recognize _that_ ass as soon as I walked in. It had given me a black eye the day before. Alas, I was far too distracted to realize the mortal embarrassment I was about to walk into. I recognized it now, feet stuttering to a stop.

Chris Evans started to smile at me in greeting. The _audacity_. My hand rose, fingers covering my right eye. I’d thrown some make up on it before dinner but the bruising was only getting darker. It looked like a funky birth mark at the moment. Both men took a step forward and I actually whispered, “Nope.” Turned and made to run.

“Oh my God, Liv. Stop.” Henry laughed as he caught my free hand. He gently pulled me close, not quite hugging me but definitely caging me. 

“This is somehow the best and worst surprise ever, Henry Cavill. Just so you know.” He was still laughing. I could have worn cake makeup and it wouldn’t have covered how red I was. 

“Come meet my friend.” He cajoled, mouth twisted in an unfortunate shit eating grin. He turned to the side, robbing me of the protection of his broad chest. I steeled myself for whatever excruciating embarrassment would wash over me at the sight of Evans but none was immediately forthcoming. Well, that was a pleasant surprise at least. Perhaps having a crazy sex weekend was making me more confident as a person.

I offered my hand to the American, pleased he gave me a firm shake instead of half-assing it because I was a _lady._ “Hi Liv. I’m Chris. And I believe I owe you an apology.” The line was spot on for Steve Rogers. I quirked an eyebrow, not getting his meaning. He pointed at my eye, the one that had a nice stripe because I’d run into a post staring after his ass.

I died, just a bit, and gaped up Henry. “You _told_ him!?” _Nope_. Was not more confident. Not at all.

I wished Henry had brought Kal. The dog had saved me last time.

The men continued their laughter as I let my chin hit my chest. My face would cool, I’d remember I was a functional adult, and we could all move on with our lives. 

When I didn’t engage in conversation after a few minutes, Henry nudged my shoulder gently with his own. I turned into him, instinctively bracing myself against his chest in an attempt to ground myself. Neither knew I was caught me off guard and on a night when I’d been emotionally torn apart by my publicist. A recipe for disaster is what it had been but it was over.

Henry cupped my cheeks and drew my face upwards. A part of me that sounded suspiciously like Rachel after three too-many drinks screamed that we were in public and this was _inappropriate._ Henry’s voice was soft and soothing. “Hey, it’s okay. He was just telling me about how he almost decapitated himself in Snow Piercer because he was distracted by a hot grip on set.”

A second voice piped up, “Yeah, it’s a universally accepted truth that I am an awkward fucker.”

The thought made me giggle and I peaked around Henry’s shoulder. Evans gave me a gorgeous smile, open and guileless. This was not how I ever expected to meet Captain America but here we were. I sighed and straightened. “You know, I don’t usually end up meeting the reasons I run into walls. But, it is what it is.”

Time to put on my big girl pants and hope Henry didn’t actually want to hang out with Chris Evans tonight. I had more important plans. “Let me do this again. Hi, I’m Liv Orton, New York Time Best Selling Author and all around Nerd. It’s lovely to meet you, person I’ve never seen in public before in my life.”

The men burst out laughing and I relaxed enough to smile. Drama, my old friend, I’ve come to sup with you again. I wanted to ask how they knew each other but they were too far gone into a conversation about motorcycles for me to hope to get a word in edgewise. I leaned back against the bar top instead, watching Henry’s facial expression. He was deeply invested, eyes glued to Evans, and his hand gestures were insane. Everything he said was punctuated with movement. It was sort of entrancing. I couldn’t remember him doing it to me but maybe he had.

What if he’d cast some sort of weird Jersey spell on me?

I laughed at the thought. He had a really cute dog and had given me a blinding smile while complimenting my work. That wasn’t a spell; it was just him being Henry. “So, I can’t say I’ve read your stuff, but I assume it was the book Cavill was talking about in the spring?”

I looked back to Evans who was giving me an expectant look. “Yup, some top notch fantasy. This dude here made me a career.” I gave Henry a grin and he bashfully rubbed the back of his neck.

“Your work stands on its own merit. I just helped and I was plenty compensated for it.”

Evans let out a bark of laughter and ribbed me so hard I almost fell over. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

Again, my eyes flew to Henry’s. He’d told him about _that_ too? How close were these two? But then again, with our physical contact in the last few minutes it was probably obvious.

Henry’s response was interesting, though. He looked confused and then recalcitrant, giving Evans a generous eye roll. He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the bar tender. “Your food is ready, Mr. Cavill.”

He looked so relieved I let out a snort. I would have never pegged him as the type to be bashful. He thanked the staff and turned to give Evans a handshake. “You’re not staying?” The American actually looked taken aback by our imminent departure.

“Afraid not. Not tonight; I’ve got a hot date with a couch and a movie.”

He sounded so fond and gave me a blinding smile when I laughed at his silly excuse but it was adorable. Adorable and smoking hot all at the same time. 

“Well, all right, I suppose. I’m leaving tomorrow so it was nice catching up.” They shared a bro-hug and Evans gave me another blinding smile. “It was very nice to meet you.” He didn’t mention my bruised face and I let him have a half hug as well. The hand not holding onto my overnight bag rested on his biceps and I let my fingers flex. Hmmm. As solid as I’d expected. 

Henry snagged my free hand after it dropped and gave it a squeeze. I gave Evans one last nod before I let Hen pull me off towards the elevators. “He seemed nice.”

Henry gave me a hum, eyes watching my face as we waited for the elevator. “Did I see you cop a feel?”

My cheeks darkened. “Just the tiniest bit. For science.”

His laughter filled the lobby as the elevator dinged open and I smacked his arm for drawing so much attention to us. That made him laugh even harder which sent me into peals of laughter.

_If you couldn’t laugh with the person you were fucking what were you even doing with them?_

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“Tell me about Alberta.”

The question interrupted my thoughts on the ineffable goodness of dogs and I looked up from Kal. Henry was cradling my calves in his lap, one hand rubbing lazy circles on the skin at my ankle. His other arm was thrown across the back of the couch and he looked positively disheveled. We’d had a good make out session before we’d started the movie and he didn’t bother fixing his hair after my fingers had destroyed his careful work.

A curl rested above his right eye and I reached forward to brush it back before thinking about it. His smile was soft, gaze tracking my hand. A warm palm trapped my wrist before I could lean away and he pressed a kiss to the skin there. 

He gave me soft grin before releasing me and I felt my insides melt. If this weekend was going to kill me at least it would be the sweetest death known to womankind. 

“Is it really as flat as your photos?”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Have you been stalking me on Instagram?”

He ducked his head and I laughed at the bashfulness. “Stalking is such a strong word. I prefer researching.”

“Researching, right. You creeper.” It was a hilarious image, Henry hunched over a computer in the dead of night, scrolling through the couple dozen photos I’d shared with my fans. He caught my foot and trapped it when I nudged at his stomach. I was about to protest, not wanting to be tickled, but he just held it softly.

“No, it really was research. I wanted to know what I was getting in to before I talked about your book on socials.”

A sensible response, I supposed. If I believed in promotion like that I’d do the same. “To answer your question, yes. It’s extremely flat where I live. We are mostly cattle-based agriculture there. Cowboys as far as the eye can see.” His own eyes lit up.

“Yeah? I saw the photo of you on the horse when you were a kid. Do you still ride?”

I shook my head. I still had to talk to Rachel about the shit she’d put up on Wikipedia. “My cousins run the family ranch. Before the book I’d run trail rides on weekends when they needed help but it’s been . . . oh God. I think last summer was the last time.” I had a vague memory of five rambunctious drunk women out for a Bachelorette party. I shuddered. “The real shame is that when I bought my cabin, I couldn’t buy land that was close enough to walk to the ranch from. I’m like five kilometers out which is too far. I am a lazy creature most days.”

That got me another chuckle and I realized he must have thought I was ridiculous. He was probably running 10k’s every day to keep in shape. Thankfully for me my shape was relatively easy to manage: hockey when I had time and a liberal application of sleep.

“What about your cabin. I bet it’s like a cozy hunting cabin.”

“That’s . . . bold of you to assume. Is it because I’m Canadian? It is, isn’t it? I don’t ask you how to make tea because you’re British.”

He gave my toes another squeeze and I rubbed at his stomach with my foot. His abs flexed and I pushed in a little harder, finding rock solid muscle. He grinned. “You’re deflecting.”

“Why do you want to know what my house looks like?”

“Because it’s yours and I want to know things that the internet doesn’t.”

That . . . felt a little stalkery again. “How much, exactly, have you read about me? I mean, Alberta and my love for guessing accents aside; what is there to find out?”

When Henry sighed and tipped his head back in exasperation I wondered what can of worms I’d just opened. Surely there couldn’t have been that much, right? I didn’t share a lot and really, who would care to find out? He glanced back at me, a rueful smile on his face. “I already knew your birthday. You’d mentioned it on your very first ever book reading because it was the day after and you said you were still hung over.” I remembered that reading. I didn’t remember anyone recording it though.

“I know you were born in Winnipeg. And that your parents died when you were young.” A strange feeling started crawling its way down my spine. It was part confusion, part exasperation. Having grown up in the internet era I’d always been careful about sharing my real life with people online and yet he’d pieced together huge chunks of my history that I hadn’t, wouldn’t, have told him until much later in the relationship.

My heart almost jumped out of my throat, thinking about all the little secrets I might have shared somewhere a decade ago that he could have found. “I know you used to write fan fiction and were moderately popular in the Star Trek fandom in the early aughts.” Ah, yes. _Used to._

“Have you read any of them?!”

His Cheshire grin was answer enough and I buried my face in a pillow. I peeked out when he gave my foot a tug and I slipped a few inches towards him. “They were great. Even then you were a wonderful world builder. I think that’s what made me fall in love with your stories to begin with. _Congruous_ was so bare bones for character development but my God. From the moment you started to describe Vineut I was lost.” 

He was so earnest and I was so flattered. I kept the pillow up, staring at him owlishly.

Realistically I was trying to do the math on the time differential between Red Cliff and Hungary. A lot. 8 hours, I suspected. Would he care? How busy _are_ actors during filming? Maybe I should just move-

I pumped the mental breaks hard. I was not about to ingratiate myself into Henry Cavill’s existence just because I might be falling in love with him. Fuck. _Love._

I shot up from the couch so fast Kal jumped to his feet in alarm as well. “I- um- have to use the wash room excuse me.” The door shut behind me even as Henry was calling out my name in concern. What was I doing? The mirror revealed I looked beyond panicked. I wasn’t lying when I’d insisted I didn’t do this kind of thing not three hours ago.

And yet. Here I was.

I sat down on the toilet. Tried to make it at least sound like I was using the facilities. Then stood up after mere seconds and stalked back to the door. I should leave. I should get my bag and thank the gentlemen for a lovely movie night and then go back to my own room. There was no possible ending to this story that wasn’t going to suck.

My hand reached for the doorknob, paused in the air, and then curled in on itself.

If I was the only one hurting, what was the problem? Henry wouldn’t intentionally cause me harm. At least I suspected he wouldn’t. He’d already shown himself to be a gentleman and an all around good dude. The only one in danger here was me. And I was a fully functional adult, as previously stated. Repeatedly. I could handle it.

Henry let me have a few minutes to pace and thing about all the choices in my life that had deposited me in this moment before he knocked. “Liv. Seriously, are you okay?” I startled away from the door, stumbling on the rug.

In hind sight it would be funny but in that moment I lost my footing and went skidding backwards into the tub. My long and drawn out, “Fuck me!” ended with a rather loud thump as I fell. 

“Liv?!” He tried the door knob, finding it unlocked, and crashed into the room. 

I actually thought I looked rather relaxed, casually propped up in the tub with arms and legs akimbo. The look of terminal resignation on my face must have been reassuring because Henry broke into deep laughter after mere seconds of seeing me prone. Kal came to investigate then climbed right into the damn tub with me.

I let the dog lick my cheek while his owner laughed uproariously in the doorway. 

Fuck my life.

I rolled my eyes and pushed at Kal. “Okay, bear. Off. Go.” The Akita climbed out. Henry helped the dog with the slick fiberglass then reached down to pluck me up. Hands wrapped around my forearms he easily hauled me to my feet. At least I kept falling around a man that definitely benched twice my weight regularly. 

He was still laughing, wrapping his arms around me and feeling the back of my head for injury. I was fine, just the wrong side of mentally exhausted. I pressed a cheek to his chest, taking a deep breath. Mentally I was still spiraling. Physically the fall had knocked the air out of me and unfortunately my body didn’t know what to do with itself.

I hiccupped, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

Oh. _Oh fuck no_. I wasn’t going to break down in front of Henry because I couldn’t-

I hiccupped again, fingers tightening in his shirt. Fuck. I guess I was.

His laughter died when he realized I was crying. A hand slid from the back of my head to my chin, tilting my face up. “Oh, hey. You did hurt yourself, didn’t you? What can I get you? Paracetamol? Ice? A hug?” I was still working myself up and only shook my head miserably. Excellent. I was non verbal already.

He bent scooping me up in his arms, and carried me back to the couch. One he’d settled us, he wrapped the blanket I’d been warming my legs with around my shoulders. It was warm in the cocoon of his arms and smelled _comforting_. I cried on.

How the actual fuck was this dude a real human being that existed on the same plane of reality with the rest of us mere mortals? All these years I’d struggled first with failed boyfriends and then a failed marriage and this fucker was out here the whole time, being all considerate and shit.

It should be illegal.

He pressed his lips to my temple, whispering non-sense. It was the kind of stuff you’d tell a child. Everything would be fine. Breathe. Let it out. Slowly I felt my heart beat calming, my emotions draining away. It had been _years_ since I’d had an anxiety attack like this and it left me empty, just like always.

I finally raised my head, meeting Henry’s eyes. He looked so endearingly concerned and not at all irritated by rocking a grown woman back into sanity. Instead he leaned his forehead down, rubbing his nose against mine. “Better?”

I nodded, still non verbal.

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to my lips and leaned back before I could read any intent in the contact. “I dated a woman for a while who had panic attacks. I should have asked before I picked you up because I know not everyone can handle physical touch but you initiated. I took a risk. Is there anything else I can do?”

My mouth worked, words completely failing me. He cupped a cheek again, wiping at the tear tracks. “Maybe water?” I nodded dumbly. “Can I get up?” I nodded again and let him bundle me up like a human burrito. The bottle of water was cold from the fridge when he handed it over and it felt heavenly sliding down my throat. He sat back down, giving me space, and I found I didn’t want that space. At all. I finished the water and set it aside as I felt my internal equilibrium settle. 

I leveled a real look at him. He obviously looked concerned. Still not irritated. He must be a good student or his ex was a good teacher. I’d never dated a guy before who was so intuitively helpful. 

_But we weren’t, wouldn’t ever be, dating_.

Oh yeah. I remembered instantly why I’d lost hold of my shit. Henry heard the sharp intake of breath and leaned forward to grab a hand. I held on to him like a lifeline even though he was the very source of the panic. “Please. What else can I do?”

I swallowed and blinked away the gathering storm. I was cried out. But there was only one way this feeling was going to go away and that was resolution. “What is this, Henry? What are we doing here?”

The question rocked him back, his eyebrows hitting his hairline. “Is that what’s bothering you? What we’re doing?” He withdrew his touch immediately and I knew he’d misunderstood. I took my own calculated risk and shuffled across the couch to him. He opened his arms, wrapping them around me when I settled on his lap.

“I- I haven’t always had the easiest life. And before you knew who I was I was content with just floating along. I had a moderately successful career in banking. I was augmenting it with a second job but things were okay. And then you came rocketing into my life but you were this strange surreal fixture, you know?” I wasn’t a hundred percent sure where this confession was going. I kept my eyes locked on his face though, watching his confusion play out between bitten lips and furrowed brows.

“You weren’t real. You were abstract. You existed on Netflix. And maybe a handful of random trailers before movies. But that wasn’t you. It wasn’t you until yesterday morning when you appeared out of nowhere, adorable dog in tow, and made me _feel actual feelings_. And now. Here you are. Giving me even more feelings to go with already overwhelming feelings and it’s still not real.”

His face had grown lax as my words washed over him. I wasn’t dismissing him. I was trying to reconcile every version I’d held in my head for the last decade. He pressed a kiss to my lips, soft and reassuring. “I promise I’m real. And right here or wherever you need me to be.”

I closed my eyes at the words. “But you’re not real. Because this moment, these small time frames we find ourselves in, aren’t real. They won’t last. Their impact will last but _they_ won’t.” When I looked back at him, I could tell he finally understood. He had a sadness, a resignation, in his expression that could have broken my heart. Would have if it wasn’t already half way broken.

He was quiet for a long time and I watched him. He didn’t shrink from my gaze or my touch, keeping a hand on my lower back and the over on the junction of my neck and shoulder. When my heart slowed he finally started talking. “I came here to meet you. I very specifically came to Atlanta just to meet you, Liv.”

I blinked and shook my head, his words not making any sense.“Sorry . . . what?”

The hand at my neck rose and brushed the hair off my forehead. He mumbled something before giving me a pained look. “I’ve had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you for _months._ I read your books. I let them sit for about a week and then I reread them. Twice. And then I started looking into you.” I understood his words but I very clearly didn’t comprehend.

“Everything I learned about you made me want to meet you even more. And then Kylie managed to get your tour schedule off Rachel and I had her make the arrangements.”

The gears in my mind were slow to start but they did start. “So . . . did you like have a plan to meet me? Obviously you couldn’t have planned on me knocking myself out and catching me like a fainting damsel. But you didn’t even stick around to say hi.”

He shrugged and gave me a rueful smile. “I was nervous. I didn’t want you to equate meet me with ogling Chris Evan’s ass and causing yourself physical damage.”

I gave him a laugh at that and he cradled my jaw again. “But, yeah. I asked Rachel to keep you in the hall after your panel so I could introduce myself.”

“And asking a question during the panel?”

Now he blushed, embarrassed with himself. “That, uh, wasn’t preplanned but I’d hoped you would actually answer the question and not give us the normal runaround. And I knew it was getting towards the end so I was hoping you’d pick me for your guessing game. I think secretly I was hoping you’d realize it was me and get all flattered that I was there to see you.”

It was a solid plan. I had to give it to him. He’d clearly misunderstood how much I hadn’t dug into the man who’d made my career though. Because I hadn’t realized it was him until the damage was done and I certainly hadn’t felt flattered. I’d been panicked. “And this?” I gestured at the two of us. 

“Well, I mean, there was a definite mental attraction but also physical. You always looked so relaxed and effortlessly gorgeous in your readings. I mean, what man wouldn’t be swayed by these lips and these hips?” He kissed me, still light and careful, while adjusting me on his lap. I could tell he was starting to get aroused but I also knew for a fact that he would only go as far as I’d let him.

I felt like the Grinch, my heart swelling five times when I glanced what true goodness looked like. 

“One day I think I’m going to need you to tell me how you even ended up with my book but right now I’m feeling a mighty need for something else.” I ground my hips down, indicating my desires. 

Meaning sex. 

He gave me a wolfish grin but leaned his forehead against mine once more. “Are you absolutely sure? We can just stay here on the couch-“

His words, his willingness to just let things be for a night, shot through me. “No. I’m super sure we should be naked as soon as possible.”

He swept me up in his arms again. “As you command my lady.” He gave Kal a strong command to stay and shut the bedroom door behind us. He was halfway down my chest before I realized he’d never addressed the biggest problem: our limited time together and the literal ocean between our lives.

His mouth closed around my clit and I decided that would have to be yet one more problem for the morning.


	9. Chapter 9

“Yeah so, I would say the biggest impact on my writing has always been my predecessors. Standing on the shoulders of giants, it’s easy to look around and realize you can write the world however you want it. It’s your world. You can literally take all the shitty awful things that you don’t like in your day to day and just . . . yeet them out the window.” I laughed along with the crowd at the image. In my head, I plucked _concern with what I’m going to do about the ridiculously hot man I woke up to_ out of thin air and sent it over the edge of the balcony in his hotel room.

The aid handed the mic to another attendee. The young woman was all smiles when she asked, “Is that why you have such strong LGBTQ representation in your world?”

  
I tilted my head side to side indecisively. “Kind of. I think most people who don’t consume queer media don’t actually realize how many queer people are in the world. I chose to write a world-scape where it’s not only obvious but so common that it’s unquestioned. In my head, that would be a utopia, where the things that define us have nothing to do with innate qualities but rather the things we choose to be, if that makes sense.”

A round of applause this time. I gave a grin; it had been very important when writing both books that representation was there and was explicit. After watching Dylan grow up in constant mental anguish I wanted to make a world where he would have been celebrated for his bravery rather than mourned for his fate.

No one in this room besides me knew that though. I had never discussed either of my brothers publically and hopefully never would. Another attendee stood, this time asking Siobhan about magic usage. I took a sip of water and leaned back. We were three quarters of the way through the Women’s Voices in Fantasy panel and it had been a rousing success so far. I was beyond pleased to see so many faces in the crowd from so many walks of life.

I tried to focus on my fellow presenters but my mind drifted to the utterly adorable wake-up I’d gotten that morning. Henry was up god awful early and I wouldn’t have known except he’d kissed my cheek softly and told me he’d be back in a bit. I’d wrapped my arms around his pillow, breathing in his scent. His laughter was the last thing I’d heard on my way back into unconsciousness.

The next time I’d woken it’d been to a gentle hand brushing a few strands of my hair from my face. Henry had been grinning, half sitting on the bed with me. “Good morning beautiful. Tea?” His voice had been husky. Clearly not from sleep since he’d been up long enough to work out and shower. From something else; desire and happiness that I’d spent the night in his bed.

His grin had been infectious. I’d let him kiss me for a short hello before pushing him off to go brush my teeth. Questing hands had claimed me as soon as I’d rinsed the last of the toothpaste from my mouth. The backs of my thighs were still a little tender from where he’d pinned me against the sink and claimed my body.

Next to me, Hannah tapped my arm and I glanced over at her. She gestured to the floor where hundreds of pairs of eyes were staring at me. I flushed and cleared my throat; obviously I’d missed the beginning of a question while I was daydreaming about Henry. “Yes, I’m sorry. What did you ask?”

The woman was towards the back of the room but her voice was clear through the speakers. Crystal clear. A vicious glint in her eyes made me swallow, feeling like I was pinned to the spot and about to be dissected. “Were you already sleeping with Henry Cavill when you paid him to promote your book or was that after?”

Silence stretched through the room as I stared out at the crowd. I had heard her perfectly but I wasn’t completely sure what it was that I heard. A few people giggled. One younger woman in the front fanned herself. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understood your question. Can you repeat that?”

I had to ask because it just wasn’t making _sense_. I’d only known him for . . . oh two whole days and no one had paid anyone to promote anything. I’d been _very_ clear with my agent and the publishing house that I wouldn’t do _endorsements_. They weren’t well received in the genre, feeling gross and horribly insincere. 

Even though she was a good 20 meters away the woman’s grin looked sharp, triumphant. As though she was about to set me. I swallowed down a shiver of what could only be described as fear with a side of mild panic. “It was on TMZ this morning. You paid him 10k. I was just wondering if you guys were an item before or after. It just seems-“

“Alright, next question please!” The moderator’s voice cut the woman off and I couldn’t breathe. This was ridiculous. I hadn’t- Hannah grabbed my hand under the table and gave it a comforting squeeze. Or maybe it was to keep me grounded because cells were coming out left and right. Four seats down, Quisn’s eyes were wide as she stared at me, her phone showing the awful red TMZ logo.

There were more giggles in the crowd now. Someone in the back was moving up to the stage, quick. The bright red flash of Rachel’s dress streaked through the room on the way to me. Well that wasn’t great. If she was panicking then something was wrong.

I pulled my phone out and opened up Safari. Typed in my name. Took a sharp inhale. 

_Henry Cavill Punches Down for a Weekend: Fantasy Writer Pays for Her Fantasy Hook Up_

My stomach did a little wiggly side step as I saw the photos TMZ had found. They were mostly innocuous; a couple from breakfast yesterday and one from us during our first night. It was the ones from the night before that were telling. Someone had been in the bar at the Ritz, taking photos. A whole collage of my face on fire in front of Chris Evans and then Henry cradling my cheeks. At least I looked cute. The lighting had been excellent.

I could excuse the photos. It didn’t matter who I hung out with, not really. It was the _paying_ I needed to know about.

_TMZ has learned from reliable sources that way back in January, when Orton’s latest book was about to disappear from the spotlight, Cavill promoted the work for a measly $10,000. While that might sound like a lot of money for us normal people, for Cavill it would be a drop in the bucket. Sources suggest it was an attempt by Orton to buy Cavill’s attention. According to individuals close to the writer she’d been a big fan of Superman since she was younger and found the means to finally make contact. We also have it on good authority that she paid him to come out to Atlanta for Dragon Con to get the hype started for her next book, currently in editing._

Well, fuck me sideways I guess.

The words didn’t make sense and they blurred as I blinked away the beginning of tears. There were bound to be people taking photos and I didn’t need that on the internet as well. I blacked my phone out and turned it face down, choosing instead to refocus on the panel. Someone was asking Hannah a question and I ignored my heartbeat which was building a panicked thump thump that picked up as time passed. 

Things wrapped up after fifteen excruciating minutes. I was almost incoherent with concern when I waved at the crowd and followed the rest of the panel out in the hall. Normally I’d shake some hands and make some small talk but not a one of them looked me in the eye. I’d know all five of these women for a while now, touring on the same circuit as them, and none of them acknowledged me.

I was a pariah. 

Because they all believed I paid an actor to promote me and then had fucked him. Which I hadn’t and wouldn’t because that wasn’t something we _did_ in this business. My rabid feminist card was very clearly on the rocks with my very beloved cohort. 

Fingers on my arm made me jump. “Liv, let me explain.” I turned, looking first at Rachel’s hand on my wrist and then up to her face. She looked _guilty_. 

Fuck.

“Rachel. What did you do?”

She brushed her hair back and squared her shoulders. A sour feeling built in my stomach because I knew this Rachel. This was my publicist when she knew she was about to go to battle over something. It had never been with me before, only with others on my behalf.

“You know I believe in you, right? That I would never do anything to intentionally cause harm to you or your career. You’re the first client I’ve ever had that’s actually been _talented_ and I want you to remember that.” Her brow furrowed, she looked like that guilt was eating her alive. 

_Fuck._

“In January, I made a deal with Cavill’s assistant. You would ‘donate’ $10,000 to a charity of his choice in exchange for him posting about your books.” My entire world froze and focused in on the shape of Rachel’s mouth as she spoke the words. “We agreed one post on Instagram and Facebook and no more. Everything else, him talking about it in public and even showing up here, was all him. We just nudged him in the right direction with-“

“Stop.” I held up a hand and stepped back, shaking her free of my arm. This was alot to process, my mind spiraling out of control at her confession. “Let’s backtrack. You _paid_ him, with _my_ money, to do something I explicitly told you _never to do_?”

Rachel half-shrugged, an apologetic look on her face. “Only sort of. See, it was a _donation_ to a very good charity, and we knew he was going to like your stuff. He just had to see it.”

“I don’t- his _assistant?_ How does that even work? How can you draw up a contract for me- with his assistant? Rachel. None of this makes any sense.” 

Nonsensical as it was, it did explain a few things: his insistence that I had nothing to thank him for, first of all. Second, that he’d been compensated for making my career. And it explained why he’d never really seemed to grasp the gravity of how my life had changed in March. It must have looked like a mutually beneficial arrangement between the two of us.

No wonder he’d felt so familiar with me. Smiling like that and making me laugh. In his mind we’d already been business partners of a sort. My eyes _burned_ and I brushed away the impending waterworks. As confused as I was I was growing infuriated. I felt . . . duped.

Rachel’s voice was pleading and she reached for my hand again. I pulled it free immediately and took another step back. “You agreed to let me make business deals on your behalf.” That I had and boy was I regretting that decision.

“But I didn’t even _have_ $10,000 then. I was flat broke. My last check to you had bounced, remember?” It was a dark time. My agent had already signed off on me. Rachel was the next to go and then the thing with Hen had happened and- “You paid him. Didn’t you? You saw your golden goose was losing its luster and you paid him with your own money to keep me afloat.”

She quirked her lips, her eyes drowning in sad inevitability. “Yes. I knew you just needed that boost and we’d be set. Your world was too good not to go on. Like I said: I believe in you Liv.” Rachel sounded desperate. Also, a little scared. And she was right to be scared. This was a massive breach of trust as well as our contract. I looked into her worried brown eyes and something fractured.

I could probably understand her motives with enough time but she’d always made me feel like we were on the same page. She’d always had the best insights, of all the people I’d hired to keep me on the path to success. Rachel had truly been like a guiding little sister that I’d probably needed my entire life. She knew my deepest fears and greatest aspirations. 

And she understood my limits.

The fear in her eyes said she knew what was coming next.

“You’re fired.” The words were out of my mouth before I realized I’d made the decision but it was the right one. It was the right decision and it was the only one. Her mouth dropped, words leaving her as her hand drifted back to her side. “My contract explicitly says no promotional deals with individuals.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t a deal. It was a _donation.”_ No matter how she tried to justify her actions there was no way around the breach of trust she’d committed. I shook my head, no longer bothering to wipe the tears away. It felt like I was cutting a family member out of my life. 

“I’ve made a fool of myself. This whole weekend I’ve been a fool. You were right to warn me away from Henry but you should have come clean as soon as you knew he was going to be here. Clearly you’re buddy buddy with his assistant. You had to know this was happening.”

There was a layer of worry and anxiety clawing at the back of my throat and I lost my words. Rachel took one step forward and I waved her off. I needed some time. And a new publicist. But, immediately, I needed quiet and to not look into her wounded expression. She’d done this to herself. She’d done this to me. I couldn’t-

I turned and walked away.

She called after me once, right as I was about to disappear into an elevator, and I ignored her. I pushed a button and felt the lift rise. We were at the Marriott so I was on the opposite end of the con from my room. I didn’t want to go back there. I didn’t want to go anywhere. My head hit the wall in the elevator and I took a deep breath. That wasn’t true. I knew exactly where I wanted to be.

My brain conjured an image of my parents, smiling and greeting me with open arms. My last happy memory of them. In the background, Dylan and Jamie were tussling. My perfect little family. The bittersweet loss that always accompanied thoughts of my dead relatives reared its ugly head and I gasped. Eyes flying open, I paced. The elevator continued to climb and I glanced at the buttons. I was headed to the roof and the pool.

Just as well.

Hopefully there was a nice breeze.

My feet retraced the path I’d taken with Henry not two nights ago, on our wander of downtown ATL. The Marriott was a nice hotel. Their pool was quiet, even with all the nerds. Nerds that were in panels because it was 10:30 in the morning and who the fuck would be out and about at this time of day. 

That’s where Henry found me, hours later. I was four drinks into a miserable afternoon when a shadow crossed in front of me on my chaise.

I must have looked ridiculous: sprawled out on a lounger in a relaxed linen shirt and a pair of chinos. Definitely not pool apparel. And I knew for a fact that my hair was a nightmare. My hair and my face, probably red and puffy from the defeated tears I’d been fighting since that morning.

I looked up and let out a sigh when I realized who was blocking my sun.

Henry _fucking_ Cavill. In all his Brit glory. Staring down at me with a look that was part bittersweet and a whole lot of concern. At least he cared about where his money came from, right?

We stared at each other for a long moment before he sighed right back at me. His eyes scanned the deck, probably looking for more people with cameras, before he tapped my legs to move over. His body didn’t quite fit on the space I left him but he took every inch he was given. 

I’d wondered, for many hours now, exactly what I would say to him. My perfect weekend wrapped up in deception.

  
It wasn’t his fault.

  
At the end of the day, Hen would have no idea what exactly Rachel had done. Even though he’d probably already talked to her; they clearly knew each other. My mind flashed back to the beginning of all of . . . _this._ He’d used her name readily, even though I’d never introduced him. I didn’t think anything of it then, so flattered that he’d be talking to me at all.

“My agent is working on TMZ, getting them to retract the story. Since its 90% garbage.” He looked almost playful when he glanced over at me. “Unless you were playing it cool and you’ve really had a crush on me forever.”

My smile was tight, a small shake of my head to reinforce my displeasure. He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. He’ll have it down in the next couple of hours.”

Of all the things I was irritated by, TMZ was at the very bottom of the list. Fuck the media. Fuck the rumor mills but I wasn’t upset about them publishing non-sense. I was upset that there was a whole host of machinations going on around me that I was _completely unaware of_. 

“Did Rachel pay you to come here?”

Hen’s eyes snapped to my face and the disgusted expression he made was somehow very reassuring. “No. Fuck, no Liv. No one paid me to do anything, to come here.” He reached out, hand grabbing mine. I allowed it, for the time being. I was still sprawled and loose limbed. I really had drank too much. “You didn’t even pay me to begin with. That donation paid for the bat annex at Durrell and I loved that. That you’d be willing to do something selfless just so I’d read your books.”

I hiccupped, a laugh bubbling up at the same time as a half sob. “I didn’t though.”

He tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. I’d come to know this as his listening expression, when he didn’t want to miss a word I was saying. “Rachel didn’t talk to you yet today?”

Hen looked so confused and worried as he shook his head. His grip on my hand tightened and I felt a tug. 

It wasn’t his fault. Not really. I let him pull me into a sitting position and then into his arms. The world spun a little madly as the alcohol made the horizon stretch into the wrong direction but I settled enough to lay my head against his chest. His heartbeat was strong under my ear and I felt like I was just torturing myself further. Strong hands cradled my back, making gentle circles where I didn’t deserve the kindness.

“I didn’t make that donation. It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t have, not ever. I don’t- I never wanted to make my career by paying someone.” It felt pathetic to vocalize it, as though I was a miserly old woman who’d never given two fucks about the world. His arms stiffened around me but he kept rubbing my back. “It was in my contract and everything. I didn’t- I didn’t know when I met you that she’d- that Rachel had done that.” I tilted my head back so I could look at him. 

He didn’t look surprised in the least. “I kind of figured it out. Yesterday after Evans cornered me about _compensation_.” His lips twisted with the words. “I endorse stuff all the time. It never crossed my mind that there’d be shenanigans like this.”

Shenanigans.

  
What a sweet, underwhelming word for my current mental state.

I swallowed the rising panic and pushed away a little more from his chest. The alcohol was making my head swim. The scent of him wasn’t helping my focus at all either. “This . . . isn’t really okay. You get that, right?”

I needed him to understand my panic. And my confusion. And the voice in my head that was telling me he only knew my name because my dumbass _former_ publicist gave him _ten thousand dollars_ to read my book. I took in a sharp breath, another hiccup coming out on the exhale. The pool was still dead but I didn’t really have any desire to have another breakdown. Especially not here.

  
Henry cupped my cheek and leaned down. Forehead pressed tight to mine, he tried to give me a reassuring smile. “I’m getting that, yeah. What can I do?”

Fuck this whole mess. Even now . . . _even now_ he was perfect. “I want to disappear. To just, go.”

“Do you want to go back to my room? Or yours? Dog cuddles? Kal is waiting at mine and he’s a very good friend to have when you just need a cuddle.”

It was tempting. It was so fucking tempting. But Rachel had broken something inside of me. Just one more fucking _loss_ in a long life of tragedy. No amount of hot Henry and adorable Kal were going to fix this because they were _transient_. 

It might be better just to cut them out right now, excise the feelings I’d been catching.

There was no future here.

I laughed, bitterly, and I could tell it was making Henry panic. The arm he had looped around my waist tightened, like he could keep me through sheer will alone. It made me laugh again, this time with added tears of frustration. “Liv- what do you need?”

I looked up into his concerned gaze, my eyes swimming and my heart breaking. “Nothing- I don’t need anything from you.” Unbidden, a line from Moulin Rouge surfaced in my mind. _I owe you nothing and you are nothing to me._

The words stayed firmly locked behind my lips but I could see on his face that he understood my meaning. His hands loosened and I almost keened with the loss of his touch. This man thought I’d paid him for his attention. This amazing, wonderful man who’d given me the best three days of my decade. He’d gotten a check for ten grand and thought, sure. Let’s see what we can get up to.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t his fault. It truly wasn’t.

“Liv, I have to tell you-“

“Thank you, Henry. This was a pleasant fiction. For a little while.” I interrupted him before he could do any more damage. I was already torn apart, my whole heart ripped out of my chest and on display for anyone who’d care to give me a passing glance. Like ripping off a band-aid, I wanted this over and done with.

I couldn’t- didn’t- want to deal with the pain of loss yet again.

I had to hand it to the man. His face fell and his shoulders slumped, but he nodded in acknowledgement of the situation. He looked almost as defeated as I felt as he withdrew his touch. 

_No, please come back don’t leave me not again._

He was too British to fight this in public.

I didn’t know whether to hug him or shake his hand as he made to stand. Instead, I did neither, drawing my knees up to the space he had so recently vacated. He stared down at me with an indifferent expression. I saw a crack, when I glanced up at him, while he regarded me with delicate caution.

It was better to call it now.

Our lives would never align.

“I. Um. I’m really happy that we met. No matter the outcome.” Questing hands buried themselves in pockets to keep from brushing the hair out of my eyes. “And you have my number. If you ever find yourself in-“ He cut himself off before he could finish, looking into the distance. I got another handful of moments to look at him before he turned and walked away. My eyes tracked his form and a familiar swell of despair rose to meet my tears.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My heart still hurts from the last chapter. Have some self-exploratory Liv being celebrated for being a bad ass writer.

When I finally crawled out of my hole on the roof of the Marriott, I expected to see him everywhere because he had infused himself in my weekend. He wasn’t in that hallway where I’d pressed myself against him and accepted sex was imminent. He wasn’t in the elevator or the lobby or waiting outside my door for me. He wasn’t in my bed, lazy stretches pulling the bedding taunt against toned thighs. My eyes traced the tightly made sheets and I huffed out a pained breath. What the fuck had I done?! I was such a fucking idiot. 

I shook out my hands and turned from the scene of the crime. There was an emptiness to the space, a hole with no Henry, that left me bereft. It was making me seriously second guess my decision.

This wasn’t Henry’s fault, after all. 

My hand itched to reach for my phone but I held my fingers against my thigh. The only thing he was innocent of was Rachel’s subterfuge. He’d still taken what had amounted to a bribe and then had decided he had a _crush_ on me. A crush and here I was, pretty freaking certain I was half in love with him. No. No, I wouldn’t call.

I turned on some music instead and checked in with Tony. My manager had already gotten Rachel’s story, obviously. He’d been hired within a week of Henry’s post and hadn’t been privy to her actions. When the chips fell, he sided with me and put a lawyer on dissolving my contract with Rachel. He also did the legwork on finding her replacement. I hummed along while he detailed what would happen next.

Still go to New York. Finish up the tour. Regroup in Alberta.

My heart clenched in agony.

I wondered if Henry had left town already. I watched Atlanta pass out the window. I was too far from the airport and looking the wrong way to see planes taking off but if I thought hard enough my heart would break at the imagery.

Henry was gone. He had to be.

I’d sent him away and he had left. It burned. It burned in the pit of my stomach, bile rising at the emotional upheaval of the day. It had started so well too with gentle kisses and his clever fingers making me see stars behind my eyes. This crash was inevitable though and I hated past me in this moment. Past me knew how much this was going to fucking hurt and did it anyway and now I had a broken heart to go along with my aching head. Sometimes I was the actual worst.

I let out a heavy sigh and refocused on Tony. He had me on a flight to NYC that afternoon and I thought we were at the point where I’d say good bye but his words drew me up short. “And what about Cavill? What do you want to do about him?”

What was there to do? It was over and he was gone and I’d be home soon enough to lick my wounds. Ignore that all of this had happened, that I was half in love with an illusion. “Do I need to do anything?”

Tony hummed, his pen tapping on his desk in a whole other country. “I’ve gotten some requests to confirm or deny you two are dating. I can say nothing or I can say something. What do you want to do?”

“We’re not dating. We’re not together. He left and before this whole cluster fuck I hadn’t thought about who he was since the last time I watched the Tudors-“, I cut myself off because Tony and I didn’t talk about relationships. He was my agent, not my friend. His hum was soft, the tapping stopping. 

“I’ll deny the rumors then. I can’t do anything about the ten grand in March thing but it looks like his people have mostly scrubbed that off the internet.” For some reason that was immeasurably reassuring and I exhaled in relief. “Now, that doesn’t mean it’s gone. The internet never forgets but I think we can assume this will just be a strange blip that’ll pass soon.”

My stomach and my heart didn’t agree with his assessment but with time everything would pass. “Thanks Tony. And, uh, I don’t really want to have to talk to Rachel again. If you could-“

“I’ll take care of that, you take care of yourself.”

Everyone had a scandal right? I scoffed at myself as I threw the phone down on the bed. Everyone had a scandal and mine was a 6’1” Adonis of a man who was a perfect, super soft birthday party and could bench press me for days. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms and tried to shut out the mental image.

He had held me as I’d broken down, his touch soft and his words so perfect they made me want to cry even now.

He had his hands and his mouth and his whole being in all my most private areas with such efficiency I’d be getting off for the rest of my life thinking about it. That look in his eyes as he stared up at me from between my legs, a finger delicately teasing my soaking seam, would haunt me. 

I was such a fucking idiot.

My phone dinged again and my heart soared. I wanted it to be him. I wanted him to be asking to see me, to come to my room. To come back to me.

Tony had sent me a link to TMZ where they corrected the date as March, not January, and that I _hadn’t_ paid Henry Cavill to fuck me but rather we had come about our relationship quite naturally. And they implied we were probably still squirreled away in a hotel room in Atlanta.

I sighed again, eyes skipping across the mess of my room. I needed to get out of there. I should pack. I should pack and leave this place and never return and then I could begin to heal. I had plenty of practice getting my heart broken. My feet whispered over the carpet and I collected my life into some semblance of normality. 

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

There was a weighted blanket, fresh from Amazon, sitting on my front porch when I got back from New York. No note. I hadn’t ordered it but chalked it up to Tony looking after me. Or maybe Rachel attempting an apology. She’d texted a few times while I’d been in NYC, professionally asking for forgiveness.

I’d gladly given it but I wasn’t interested in a relationship with her anymore.

A migraine had been sitting between my eyes for _days_. I wrapped up in the blanket, feeling truly comfortable again for the first time since I’d crawled out of Henry’s arms that last morning.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

My period showed up right on time, a week and a half post ATL. I stared down at the blood between my thighs for a long time, hand cradling my lower belly with the same sort of familiarity that all women in their 30’s knew. That nervous feeling of _maybe this time it’ll be different_ and I swear I wasn’t disappointed.

I wasn’t.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

A new notice from Tony popped up a few days later. I was now Henry Cavill’s shortest public relationship according to the Daily Mail. 

The gossip rag celebrated our three whole days. Yay, a new high score. I laughed more than anything, scanning the non-sense with my breakfast. The article mentioned he was about to go off to Hungary to start filming. I idly wondered how much muscle he’d put on before I pushed the thought aside because _I didn’t care._

A knock at the door had me pulling on a sweater to bear the brunt of the cold. A delivery driver confirmed my identity and then handed me a box. I frowned but thanked him. They were flowers. For me. Flowers at my door: a beautiful bouquet of lilies. There was no note and this time I called Tony to ask about the gift. He hadn’t sent any but he promised to look into it if I’d like. 

I would like. I would very much like. The last thing I needed was an actual stalker after the non-sense in Atlanta. When he got back to me a few hours later it was just to tell me not to worry about it. This made me worry even more. I was far too deep in the final edits of the book for this so I called the flower shop myself.

The flowers had been purchased online through PayPal with an email I didn’t recognize. The phone number though had me furrowing my brow. It was international: a London number. I froze.

I only knew one person in London. 

The shop girl asked if I’d like the number and I took it down with a shaky hand. She was probably breaking some privacy laws but I’d known her since she was a baby and I’d be damned if she didn’t do as she was asked.

I waffled with myself, hard, for a few minutes. If Henry had sent the flowers, if he was reaching out, I should say thank you. I should acknowledge it, right? That would be the polite thing to do. Except I hadn’t exactly made headway on reconciling my feelings towards him and it’d set me back weeks to open it all back up.

I closed my eyes, drifting back to a couch in a suite in Atlanta. Strong arms holding me as I unraveled. Soft lips on my forehead, asking me what he could do for me. I took the vase and set it in the window, the Alberta horizon in the background, and I snapped a photo.

Me (17:33): Thank you.

I chewed the inside of my lip and stared at the message. No one had paid him to give a fuck about how I was doing right then. At least they better not have.

My heart clenched when the phone buzzed in my hand with a response. 

Unknown (17:34): I’m sorry about the paps. 

Fuck. It _was_ him. 

_Call him. Tap that number and push call. You could hear his voice *right at that very moment*_

Three dots kept appearing, hovering for a few seconds, and then disappearing. He was either typing me the longest message ever or couldn’t decide what else to say. I didn’t call; I wasn’t in the right kind of head space that I could actually form works with my mouth. I bit my lip and sent off a message.

Me (17:36): its okay. No one in Canada really cares about me. But thanks for the flowers anyway. Lilies are my favorite.

Unknown (17:36): Good. I’m happy. 

More dots. I held my breath.

Unknown (17:38): I mean, you’re welcome.

~~Me (17:38): I miss you so fucking much-~~

~~Me (17:38): I can’t sleep without seeing you everywhere-~~

~~Me (17:39): I hate that you made me fall in love with you and then let me down like every other person in my life I’ve cared about-~~

I set my phone down on the counter, deleting each of these desperate sounding messages before sending them. Henry didn’t need any of this either.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

September bled into October with lots of hard work and not a lot of sleep. My last round of edits finished with time to spare to my deadline. I was happy. It was a fantastic continuation to _Wars_. 

My heart still _ached_ and my fingertips quested in the night for someone that wasn’t there, wouldn’t ever be there. Henry didn’t text again and I didn’t either.

Tony called me at the publishing deadline to double check that I didn’t have any last minute edits. I thought about my dedication. I could have written something sweet to my most famous fan. It still stung, though. I left everything the way it was and told him I was good to go. The launch would be in a few weeks, right after Thanksgiving, in Toronto, and I was already mentally calculating what I’d bring.

It would be a longish trip, five weeks, North America and then a quick pop over the pond. Back by Christmas and then I could build myself a beaver dam to hide away in for the rest of the winter.

Easy.

I took a photo of the cover and put it up on IG with the back cover blurb. A smile teased at the edge of my lips as I saw the likes pour in and then, another text.

Unknown (9:44): I preordered. And I’m really really happy it’s not going to be delayed.

I hiccupped the startled laugh out of my chest and then promptly had a coughing fit. Of course he’d see it. He’d followed me, months ago, and had never stopped. I’d been extremely conscious of everything I’d posted since the first weekend of September but I never imagined he’d directly respond.

Me (9:53): I’ll sign it the next time I see you.

My finger hovered over send but I couldn’t pull the trigger. Couldn’t imply I’d ever have the chance to see his smile again in person or be blessed by his dulcet baritone. I deleted the first message and sent a string of smiley faces.

I was secretly a twelve year old girl incapable of dealing with her emotions.

-!-!-!-!-!-!- 

I let my cousins take me out to celebrate, driving all the way up to Calgary to watch the Flames play. Mikey took us down to the locker room after the game and I got a couple of selfies with Giordano, because of course I did. We’d known Gio for years and it was always good to see the Captain. The young bucks in the locker room were giving me speculative side eyes as I chatted with the players I knew. Still stinking and sweaty from their game, I rolled my eyes and gave them head shakes.

What even would I do with a 20-something after _Hen?_ They would never begin to compete with the naked gymnastics we’d shared. I woke more days aching from the dreams than not and I knew it was going to be a while before I’d have a normal sleep schedule. 

Despite my best efforts he still consumed much of my waking thoughts as well.

Within 12 hours of sharing the photo with Gio, I got a notification that Henry had liked my post. He’d responded almost instantly to the photo of the book and I wondered if there was a particular reason for the delay. I looked at the photo again. It was innocent: Gio’s arm around my shoulder with his head tipped into mine. He’d been the rookie two years after Mikey and I’d played mom to that whole squad when I’d been in Edmonton for school. 

A mystery. An enigma. He was probably busy. He’d be in Hungary by now, eight hours ahead. 

I wasn’t _checking in_. That dumb article had mentioned he’d be there.

I wasn’t checking.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

The prerelease reviews for _The Crimson Flag_ were good.

That was a lie.

The reviews were _glowing_ which is what my face had been doing since Tony had given me the news a few days back. The literary reviewers were exceptionally pleased with my development.

Take _that,_ broken heart. You can’t keep me down.

There were at least three characters who’d inherited traits from Henry or Kal during rewrites and I solemnly ignored them. I especially ignored every time reviewers praised their roles in the next part of the story.

I was reading the latest review in the Chicago Tribune while I enjoyed a quiet latte in Toronto. The café was off the beaten path a bit, down by St. James Cathedral. In the unseasonably warm early November I was taking my drink out on the patio. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and my hair was perfectly curled under my toque.

I looked good and I felt good, sipping the beverage and listening to the sounds of the city. This would be my first actual _release party_ that had any kind of significance. Since March ( _since Hen)_ my books had just continued to sell. There were honest to god critics and press invited to the shindig that evening.

I was going to have a shindig for my _third novel_ and wasn’t that just every writer’s dream?

My phone vibrated while I was looking for the bottom of my cup and I fished it out of my pocket. Tony, reminding me I was meeting with the PA for my press tour _shortly_ and could I not be late? I laughed and shot him a photo of myself in front of the café. I was early, unusually so. I could almost hear the muttered, “Good,” he’d probably given his phone.

I was about to go back to my latte when a nervous voice to my right brought my attention to a man standing next to my table. The stranger was tall, probably flirting with six foot, and lean muscled beneath the cabled sweater. A toque covered most of his ash brown curls and his warm brown eyes looked immeasurably hopeful behind his glasses. “Hey, Liv? I’m Audie. I’m going to be assisting you on your tour.”

His hand shake was firm and I resisted giving him a huge grin. He was pretty hot. And earnestly sweet. He joined me at the table and we got to know each other over the course of fifteen minutes. Having a PA was different than having a publicist. An assistant was there to make things happen when you weren’t looking. A publicist was there to make sure everything you did looked good. Audie was a recent U of Toronto graduate who was just getting his feet wet in the professional writing world. He was also hopelessly, desperately in love with my books.

“I mean, I don’t mean to, like, bring up bad memories or anything but I bought your book as soon as Henry talked about it on the Gram and then, like, just kept reading it over and over. No joke. I joined all the facebook groups and I think I’m perfect to help you-”

I held up a hand and waved him down. “Easy there. You’ve already got the job, don’t worry.” He was like an over excited puppy and I smiled wanly back at him as he continued to rant. My heart had only skipped a few beats at the mention of Hen. I was getting better. Slowly but surely.

In a lull in conversation I heard a deep bark and glanced around. Unlike Atlanta, dogs were common here in Toronto so a few barks shouldn’t set my heart racing but the sound had been . . . familiar. I kept my glance light and cursory. I wasn’t looking for a specific dog, specifically not a huge and furry bear of immeasurable joy. Absolutely not at all. There were no Kal shaped creatures in the vicinity and my heart dropped a bit. “Can I ask about it? About . . . him?”

I refocused on my PA tilted my head. We should probably get that mess out of the way since he’d be following me around and I was still being asked about Henry from time to time. “You get exactly two questions and then no more because I think we have a date with the Sun at 11, right?”

He double checked the schedule he had in his binder then nodded. “Yes. The Sun at 11, then the Times at 12 and then lunch with the publisher for a photo op-“

“Easy. I can remember my schedule. Just, don’t be nervous because then you’ll make me nervous. Go ahead and ask about him.”

He gave me a grin. “Is he really as beautiful as everyone says he is?”

I shook my head. “No He’s way hotter.” I took the final sip of my latte. He let out a deep groan of satisfaction and I knew I’d made his day. He thought for a minute about his next question before giving me an almost sad smile. “Tony said I shouldn’t bring it up because it was really shitty the way it happened but you guys . . . like, Atlanta was the only time you hooked up right? I saw the photos and you two looked so _comfortable_ together and I figure I should probably know at least that if-“

This man just kept going. Forever and ever. If I didn’t interrupt him he’d still be getting around to asking this question in a month. “Yes, Audie. We hooked up in Atlanta. It wasn’t planned. There’s no contact between us now.”

He looked crestfallen for me for all of three seconds before he picked himself right back up. My jaw almost dropped as his quick turnaround. At least Tony had found me someone who could ground my increasing grumpiness.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Unknown (3:32): I called a coworker Furst today on accident. 

Unknown (3:32): In case you were wondering how I liked the book.

Unknown (3:32): Thank you for not giving me any spoilers. The first read through only took a few hours anyway.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“AUDUBON FRANKLIN ROSLIN, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE THIS INSTANT.” My shouts rattled the mirror out in the hall, the sound echoing out my open door and down into the sitting area in our B&B. In my hand, my phone shook. What I was seeing was almost incomprehensible. It couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t-

“You hollered?” He was dressed for bed and I felt bad for two whole heartbeats. Just two.

“I need you to check the guest list again for tomorrow night. See if there are any additions.” His eyebrows crept high, running into his curls, at my request. We were close to the end, finish line in sight, and he’d gotten his fair share of strange requests already. This was a new level of odd.

But, he shifted and nodded doing as requested. I chewed on the corner of my lip as he scrolled and waited for . . . for what? I waited for him to tell me that the Daily News had it wrong and the strong and dashing man who was seen running with a giant dog in a Kensington park _that morning_ wasn’t going to randomly show up at the last stop on my tour.

Fuck but he looked good in those shorts. I let my eyes linger on his thighs. And his shoulders. And his arms. He looked huge, even in comparison to what I remembered from Atlanta. Which would make sense. He’d been planning on putting on more muscle and it looked like he had-

Audie’s _hmm_ shot my eyes to his face. Something _was_ different. That devious man must have wormed his way into the reception. Dammit- “It looks like Smithson backed out.” Audie gave me a glance over his phone. “How did you know?”

My heart dropped. Who gave a fuck about Smithson? That old fart didn’t- I craned and tried to see Audie’s screen. He freely showed me and I went over the names myself. Henry Cavill wasn’t on the list. He wasn’t on the guest list and I was losing my mind. I sagged backwards, letting gravity carry me to the wall next to my door. 

What did it matter if he was in town? Why would he- it wasn’t important. “Hey. Keep your head up. We get to go home in two short days.” There was a strain in his voice I smiled fondly at. He’d weathered the Canada leg just fine and had been doing great until we hit LA. A bad round of food truck tacos had knocked him on his ass and he hadn’t had a chance to recover. Now we were wrapping things up in London and he could probably see his own bed when he closed his eyes.

Audie wasn’t enjoying our travels but I was having a blast. The world was a much wider place than Alberta and I loved my homeland but . . . the past six weeks had been eye opening. Much more so than the few cons I’d attended for _Wars_. I waved my assistant off and shut the door behind him. He needed his sleep and apparently I needed to obsessively check the news feeds for the man I wasn’t internet stalking.

Except now I totally was.

The pain of seeing his smile had lessened, allowing me to fully appreciate the downright nerdy things he shared with the world. I’d scoured his Instagram, lost several evenings to interviews on YouTube, and even given into a few self-indulgent fantasies where I wasn’t such a morally upstanding person and had allowed him to whisk me off to wherever.

They were fantasies because he’d never offered and I’d never accepted. 

I was only moderately disappointed with my stalker-y actions but I told myself it was harmless. The likelihood of us crossing paths again was minimal, no matter how many heartfelt messages I got at 3 AM. 

He hadn’t posted anything about my book. Even though he had enjoyed it, so he’d said. Even though people had been asking him on socials. He’d given the same line: that he was waiting for his signed copy before commenting.

I’d had to double check that I hadn’t sent that dumb text back in October but I hadn’t. That was just his humor.

My phone dinged again, a final evening update from Audie. Smithson and Franklin had both backed out. I flopped back on my bed and silenced my phone. Once I got home this would all disappear into memory and then I could . . . start the next book? Focus on living the life I’d always wanted? 

Stomach clenching with nerves, I readied myself for sleep and drifted off. The image of Henry’s long stride mid-run burned on the back of my eyelids.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats.”

The British Fantasy Writer’s Guild did not fuck around when they threw a party, that was for sure. I dodged yet another waiter as I attempted to retrieve my PA. He was on the far side of the ball room, cornered by what looked like a very touchy woman in her mid-50’s. The panic on his face was clear.

Under normal circumstances, read as not wearing heels in a crowded room, I’d have been able to fetch him in a few seconds. At the moment, however, I was in a traffic jam of elegant dresses and well cut suits.

The Fantasy Guild’s annual reception was a high ticket event and Tony had been overjoyed to be able to bookend our trip with the party. They were even going to mention me, up on the stage while they talked about the accomplishments of the year. It was an honor, a privilege, and it allowed me to put on a slinky dress.

I clutched my purse a little tighter, hiking the slightly trailing dress past my ankles, and tried to excuse myself through the crowd. I could see how red Audie’s face was getting. He was too polite to say no but that woman was almost assaulting him.

The sequins on my fabric caught on something right as I was about to clear the last table on my way to my target and I swore. Stopped, took a step back to relieve the tension, and looked to my side. I’d brushed against a gentleman’s sleeve and his cufflink had worked its way into the material. “Oh, sir, I’m so sorry. I just-“ 

I took the man’s hand, intent on gently extracting him without damaging my clothes. There was a deep chuckle, right in my ear, as the gentleman turned to me.

I froze.

I knew that chuckle. I knew that chuckle intimately and while I never thought I’d be hearing it in person again it was unmistakable. Warm fingers clenched around mine and I looked up to find azure eyes watching me. He looked _desperately_ pleased to see me.

_Henry._

“Hi.” That voice, that cavalcade of different accents that sent shivers up my spine, was soft and so very very pleased.

I blinked up at him owlishly and swallowed, hard. “Well, fuck me.”


	11. Chapter 11

My words made him huff out a laugh, “Good to see nothing’s changed.” He gave me a grin so brilliant that time itself stood still. 

The whole room melted away, noise and the too tight press of bodies was just gone in the space of his smile. The only thing I could feel was the warm hand in mine. The only thing I could see were his blue eyes staring right back at me. I couldn’t breathe, my chest constricted by shock and wonder and . . . panic. 

My gaze widened as I took in the impeccable shape of his hair and his clean cheeks. He looked polished and despite my own meticulously manicured appearance I felt _dowdy_. The Henry that lived rent free in my head was not this creature in front of me. _This_ Henry was pure British polish, from his coifed hair to the impeccable brushed suede of his shoes.

  
I didn’t know what to do with the creature in front of me besides gape dumbly. As though I’d never seen a man in a well-cut suit before. As though I’d never seen _him_ all gussied up. There was a gigantic gap between seeing media photos of a film release and the figure in front of me just then. Gigantic. Gargantuan. Insurmountable. 

He let me look my fill, his lips quirked at the perusal.

He was still holding my hand. And I was still stuck to his cufflink.

I gave a start and looked down. His thumb was rubbing a gentle circle on the back of my hand and now I needed to free myself. That low level anxiety in the back of my mind was telling me I had something I needed to be doing. Something with Audie and we were at a god damn _special event in London_ and Henry was _right here_.

He must have heard my breathing pick up because his free hand came up to cup my cheek. “Hey, just breathe, yeah?” Yes. Air. Air was key. I took a couple of gulps and then some steady inhales and exhales. As my heartbeat returned to normal I realized Henry was breathing along with me, his grin growing more and more brilliant as I settled back into reality.

“How are you _here?_ ”

The question startled a laugh out of him and his thumb brushed along my cheek. I leaned into the touch and then frowned as he took his hand back. “Well, I live here. Where else would I be?” 

The question was delivered with the perfect amount of sass that I had missed. This was all wrong. That old pain was flaring and I was forgetting something- “Oh. Oh fuck! Audie!” My assistant was somewhere in this crush, cornered by a viscous cougar. I was going to save him- I was almost a full step away when I remembered I was still attached to Henry, who quickly followed with a muzzled yelp.

“Easy now. Just give me a second to free myself.” There was a low chorus of chuckles around us and I froze once more. We had an audience. Audience being a kind word because most of the room had found their seats and were watching us struggle. My face lit up for the first time in _months_. Everyone was watching Henry Cavill try to free himself from my dress.

I almost told him to rip it, fuck the dress. It wasn’t that expensive and I didn’t expect to wear it again. Anything to speed up this process and get the hell out of the spotlight. My eyes scanned the room, looking for my assistant. He wasn’t in the corner anymore; I found him at the table reserved for special guests, two empty seats next to him.

Hmmm. Two seats with just two dumb nerds left standing.

Something devious was going on. I could feel it in my bones. 

Henry dropped my other hand, finally, and I didn’t look disappointed. I wasn’t, I swear. He’d freed his cufflink and was offering me an arm now. The rich blue silk of his suit was impeccably cut and I swallowed. “May I escort you to our seats?” I couldn’t form the words and just nodded dumbly.

My assistant looked as bowled over as I felt when we joined him. Was he vibrating? He fiddled with his tie and I gave him a shrug. He was vibrating. As soon as Henry had seated the both of us Audie leaned _right over me_ with his hand extended. “Oh. My god. Hi, I’m Audie, Liv’s assistant. It is such an honor-“

I elbowed him in the ribs, even as Henry was shaking his hand with a laugh. “Be quiet. They’re about to start.”

The Master of Ceremonies was actually staring at us because Audie didn’t understand the meaning of a whisper and the entire room had probably heard him lose his shit. They were never going to invite another Canadian to their shindig. I could see it now. The blond straightened back in his seat and we all turned to watch the beginning of the presentation.

Henry’s presence was heavy next to me. While we had several feet between us I could feel the heat radiating off of him and could _smell_ him. Fuck I had missed that. I had missed- but what was he even doing here? He should be filming in Hungary. He’d said he’d be gone until next year sometime.

A stray lock of hair had escaped his grooming, curling gently at his temple. It looked soft. I knew it would be soft. I distinctly remembered exactly how that hair felt as I ran my hands through it. As I held tight and guided him to exactly where I wanted him-

_Oh God, why?_

“And now it is my distinct pleasure to introduce our guest of honor and the primary benefactor of the Guild, Henry Cavill.”

_Of Fucking Course._

This time Audie elbowed me and Henry shot me an amused look as he climbed to his feet and headed to the stage. _I’d said that out loud, hadn’t I?_

“Yes. Yes you did. But. You’re right; he’s a lot hotter in person.” Audie’s voice was finally quiet, and I let out a defeated sigh. I didn’t know what was going on and I wasn’t sure I liked it but I couldn’t stop the events in motion.

Henry looked every inch the super-mega-famous movie star he was. The suit was impeccable, dark blue with a black shirt. No tie. It looked _tight_. I thought it looked familiar too, like I’d seen photos of him wearing it on his socials. My mind flipped through the rolodex of Henry Cavill facts and I settled on the premiers for Mission Impossible. It was the same suit. His recent training had put extra strain on the fabric.

I had a sudden thought that if I played my cards right I could see him without the suit that night. Maybe? Probably? There was so much between us now but he still felt like the guy who was dtf. Right?!

He was waxing poetic about fantasy literature, his grinning face lighting on me for a heavy second before roaming away. 

I hated to be blunt with myself but no matter the circumstances of our reunion we had a lot of shit to discuss before we could consider hopping back in bed together.

  
No matter how good he looked, his hair softly curling around his face. Fuck, he was beautiful. And soft. And I remembered the feeling of that nose nuzzling my cheek and I had to shift with the pressure between my legs. I let out a sigh and Audie reached over to clasp my hand. I glanced his way and saw the same entranced expression that was surely gracing my face.

God damn Henry Cavill and his gentle way of taking over an entire room.

It turned out he was an Ambassador for the guild and this was the fourth time he’d been present for the yearly gathering. I let the sound of his voice wash over me without truly taking in their meaning. For us to find ourselves here without me being aware that it was a possibility . . . there was chicanery afoot. And there had to be several people in on it.

Henry finished up, rejoining the table to polite applause and I didn’t stare. I didn’t. I certainly didn’t sway towards him as he resettled, closer than he had been before. Magnetism was a thing, right? We were silent for the rest of the ceremony clapping when needed and laughing at all the strangely dry British humor. I did my best not to be hyper aware of his body but it was impossible. Every shift, every laugh, shot straight through me and I knew I’d been a fool.

All this time I thought I’d be able to get over the man next to me.

There was no getting over Henry. There was just the presence of him and the absence of him and the absence had been heart wrenching. Even now, so close and yet immeasurably far, his very being was causing me distress.

“Liv? Are you okay?” I blinked and looked around. Audie was leaning over me as everyone stood and clapped, the ceremony coming to an end. Henry glanced back and I swallowed whatever helpless feeling had so thoroughly distracted me.

I wanted to run. Run before Henry’s presence could break my heart again. The man himself was leaning over to talk to the elderly woman he’d been sitting next to, a smile on his face. He was distracted. This was my moment. I had my purse in hand, edging backwards, and would have made a clean get-away if it hadn’t been for Audie.

Loveable Audie who was bouncing on his toes because the orchestra had started playing the Ed Sheeran song he’d been listening to on repeat for the last two weeks. Sweet _precious Audubon_ who let out a yelp that had at least half the table jumping in shock, including Henry. 

He immediately shrank from the stares of a half dozen people. “Sorry. I- uh- love this song.”

I picked up my dropped jaw and turned away again but Henry’s attention had been caught. I felt firm fingers grasp my wrist and half my movement. “Liv-“ He sounded almost _desperate._ For a long moment, I was frozen. His grip was loose enough that I could pull free easily, walk away and never look back.

And then his thumb made a gentle circle on the back of my hand. I could feel that panic deflate, the motion of his finger bringing that peace and tranquility he’d instilled in Atlanta flooding back. 

Henry stepped closer, my name more of a plea than a question and I finally gave him a good look. He looked _tired._ It made my heart clench and I turned back to him. The party kicked back into full swing post-Audie interruption around us. “Were you-“

“I’m sorry-“

I blushed as we cut each other off and it made him chuckle. Some things would never change. He cleared his throat. “What were you saying?”

I was going to tell him that I was sorry I’d ever looked him in the eyes and then walked away. I was going to tell him that I regretted that decision almost daily, no matter how much I tried not to. That in the end I didn’t really give two fucks that money had changed hands and that’s how we met. It didn’t make me feel like a commodity. Not at all.

These were mostly not lies.

I shook my head rather than tell him any of that. That was messy and I was so _fucking tired_ of messy. “I- I’m sorry about earlier. Bumping into you I mean.” It was an easy thing to say, a polite thing.

Henry pursed his lips and I could tell he didn’t believe me. He was too much a gentleman to call me on it though, especially not in public. If there was one thing my many hours of internet research had taught me it was that Henry Cavill in 2018 was very _careful_ about the things he did and said in public. That was a saving grace in many ways because it meant when I got up the fortitude to walk away he wouldn’t follow. Just like before; just like September.

“What were you saying?”

He looked rueful, glancing away from my face like he was embarrassed of his question. “I was going to ask if you were running again. If I should let you go.”

He knew me better than I expected and I swallowed, hard. “I was. Running, I mean.”  
  


His shoulders collapsed, his whole body leaning towards me in defeat. “Why?” I hated the way that question sounded, the polished sadness of the syllable. It hurt, watching his face. 

“Because you being here is problematic. It means you’re still a real person that I-“ I looked away, tears not gathering in the corners of my eyes. “I don’t think I can stand the thought doing all this again.” My words were quiet but fierce and I blinked hard. Everything was heavy around us. When did this get so serious and painful? I really wanted a hug but I knew that wasn’t going to happen and I might as well let go altogether. I shifted my weight, needing separation, but a growl from the man made me pause.

“No. You don’t get to do this to me twice.” Henry tugged on my wrist. In my heels I was powerless to stop my forward movement and then I was wrapped up tight in his embrace. Arms like steel bands bound me to his chest. My hands, initially bracing for impact, curled into the silk of his jacket. I was going to get tear stains all over it. 

I tried to push away but he held me tighter. “Henry. Stop.”

His words were muffled when they reached me, spoken into the hair at my temple. “No. I won’t let go of you. Not when- just give me a few seconds, yeah?” He still sounded desperate, like I was going to disappear at any second. 

It made that urge to cry even stronger. “I don’t want to stain your suit and I really don’t want to cry in public. Please.”

He must have read the tension in my shoulders because when I moved back this time, he let me go. Not too far: he kept an arm slung around my shoulders and angled my face away from the crowd. I looked up to apologize to him again but he was looking over my head. “Audie. Right?”

Behind me, Audie’s voice cracked as he responded.

“Can you go find my assistant? Let her know I’m going to step out for a minute and not to send the cavalry?”

I couldn’t hear Audie’s response because I was being shuffled from the room with all due haste. I had enough forethought to pick up my skirt so I wouldn’t trip on it. What a fucking cherry on the top of this ridiculous evening it would be to take a tumble. But, me being me it wouldn’t be unexpected.

Henry guided me up a couple flights of stairs until he found a quiet corner of the hall. Sat me down and then knelt in front of me while my face decided whether it was going to start leaking or not. I tried to sniff the tears away with my head leaned back. A strong hand cupped the side of my neck. Fuck. 

“Henry. I-“

“Shut up, Liv.”

His words brought me up short and I glared down at him. I opened my mouth to shoot of a smart ass comment but his thumb brushed against my lips. I was struck dumb by the sudden desperation in his face and stayed quiet. He looked more serious than I’d ever seen before. 

“When I tell you the last three months of my life have been some of the most frustrating and painful and it had nothing to do with my job I would really like you to believe me. I’ve been almost wed and had live-in girlfriends and I don’t think anyone has ever done one over on me as you have.”

I blinked at him dumbly. Opened my mouth to respond. Snapped it shut again when he glared at my lips. “Before the Con I had this whole fantasy built in my mind that I’d finally get to meet you and we’d have this magical weekend and then I would sweep you off your feet. And it was going so well; you should have _heard_ how ridiculous I sounded when I talked to _anyone_ that weekend in Atlanta. Evans laughed at me for a solid minute.”

This was a part of the story I couldn’t have ever imagined. There was no indication that would suggest he’d built up that weekend this much but here he was, telling me. And he wouldn’t lie. He’d have no reason to do so. “But, Hen-“

“Stop. Please. Just let me- fuck Liv. You tore my heart out and I don’t know why I even came here tonight. I don’t know why because I knew this was going to hurt but I think I had to tell you. I had hoped that if I got this off my chest I could stop _obsessing_ about everything about you and get back to work. Because this non-sense I’ve been doing for the last _nine_ months hasn’t been it.”

I brought my own hands up, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to look at me. He was wrecked, utterly fallen apart in front of me and my heart ached for him. How could we let this happen?

_He thought you paid him. Remember?_

Something he said made my mind skip. “Nine months?” That was ridiculous.

His smile was rueful. “Okay, maybe not nine. Maybe seven. But it’s been a while. And Atlanta was supposed to be perfect and _it was_. Until it wasn’t and then it was devastating.”

It had been perfect. Until that fucking TMZ article and Rachel. I stuttered out a few syllables, trying to explain myself but I didn’t know how to articulate the words I needed to say. I leaned forward instead, pressing my forehead to his. He felt like he was the one about to have a panic attack right then. The hand on my neck slid around to the back of my head and he held tight. Eyes squeezed shut and breathing heavy, Henry clung to me like a lifeline.

“I get it. Now. I get it, I do. Your reasons don’t make it hurt any less but they certainly explain why I only ever got the shortest replies. Why you didn’t text me everyday like I wanted you to. Was desperate for you to.” Finally he opened his eyes and looked at me. “But your reasons didn’t explain why you’d tracked down my London number or sent me that first text. You were trying to protect yourself but then you went and found me. Not that you ever _really_ lost me.”

It was true. I should have left well enough alone and ignored it. Ignored him.

That would have been like asking me not to breathe or blink. Or-

“But I realized what was going on which is why I’m here now and I won’t let you run from this, from us, again.”

He looked so smug then and it hurt. Just one more man taking what he wants because he figured out what a soft touch I am. “And what exactly did you realize?” 

A smile was the only warning I got before he pulled down gently and pressed a kiss to my lips. It was sweet and short and left me gasping into the small space he gave me. “I realized you love me too. Or. At least. You will. Eventually.”

I couldn’t stop the gasp his words pulled out of my chest. I couldn’t stop the flush in my cheeks or the way my heart beat tripled instantly. Damn the man. I had fought this feeling for months and he managed to undue any sort of control in the space of an evening. I wanted to deny it, instinctively and with all my being. Because admitting it when he’d come close to admitting the same would be too much. Too much too soon.

“If you deny it I’m going to scream. Let me kiss you again, Liv. And we can pretend we’re still in Georgia. Just for a moment.”

It sounded like a legitimate strategy so I nodded. I came willingly when he tugged me to the edge of the cushion and wrapped me firmly in his arms. It was so familiar and yet so strangely foreign. His extra bulk made him even more physically intimidating but those lips . . those lips still tasted like home and I let myself get lost in Henry.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“Liv! There you are- Oh! Oh God I’m so sorry! I just wanted to let you know it’s getting late and they’re shutting- Oh. Well. I’m just going to- here’s your purse! I’ll see you in the morning!”

My face, burgundy with embarrassment at getting caught making out in a dark corner, stayed buried in Henry’s neck as his body shook with laughter.

Poor Audie was never going to be able to look at me again. It was good this was our last stop. He’d have plenty of time to relearn how to keep his jaw off the floor. 

A strong hand ran down the exposed skin at my back and I shivered. “Come home with me.” Henry nuzzled at my jaw and I tilted my head back to give him access. Despite our relatively heated exchanges over the last half hour it still felt like it would be a major decision to go back to his.

His actual hour. Here in London.

When he felt my withdrawal he tightened his grasp. “We don’t have to go any farther I just don’t want you to leave. Not yet.” His soft plea brought a smile to my lips. “And I know Kal would love to see you.” The smile blossomed into a full grin at the thought of the Akita. “Please?”

It was that last request, desperate and breathy, that did me in. I nodded into his temple and he let out a delighted little, “Fuck yes”, into my skin.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally didn’t bother to actually look and *see* where Kensington is. And was pleasantly surprised to see there’s a ward called . . . Redcliffe! Which is delightful! Because that’s where Liv lives, just, you know, in Canada. And despite the proclivities of European colonizers to name locations after their homeland, Alberta’s Red Cliff isn’t named after the ward in Kensington. It literally has red cliffs on its southern border along the South Saskatchewan River. Saskatchewan is a fun word. The UK version gets to be the host to Henry’s house because that’s just too fucking serendipitous. 
> 
> This all happened because I just replayed Dragon Age: Origins and I oops killed Isolde. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> Also, jfc property prices in Redcliffe. JFC.
> 
> I also suspect mandatory time off isn’t written into production contract. But, in my perfect world workers aren’t exploited for money saving purposes. *Shrug*
> 
> This is almost almost almost the end. Of this part of the story. Henry's POV is upcoming and I'll write in an epilogue for these two once I get there. Thank you so much, everyone, for indulging. <3

“You never actually told me what you’re doing in London.” The city itself passed by quietly, the December evening cold enough to keep pedestrians off the streets. I had very little sense of direction, having only been in the UK for a week and none of that time spent behind a wheel.

He slid me another cheeky grin. “I live here, remember?”

I wanted to smack his arm for his hubris but he was driving so I settled for scoffing at him. “You’re supposed to be in Hungary filming. Also, please tell me absolutely everything about production because I’ve been trying to ignore all Witcher news but it’s been killing me not to know.”

Henry almost looked offended that I was avoiding any gossip about him. “Most productions take the week before Christmas off so we can all go home. It’s written into a ton of contracts compliments of the unions. As for the Guild awards, I usually go when I know I’ll be home. I’ve donated a ton to them every year and I like getting to rub elbows with my favorite authors.”

There it was again, that off-handed compliment that made my cheeks burn. In the passing headlights, I read a sign for Redcliffe Gardens and almost came out of my seat reading it. Huh. What a small fucking world. Now that I was looking around, I could see the word Redcliffe everywhere and it made something buzz in the base of my spine.

_Home. But not quite._

“You’re big on the donation thing, aren’t you?” I meant it simply to segue, filler for a silence that was so thick I could cut it with a knife if I wanted. As soon as it came out, though, I heard what it must have referenced for him.

He actually winced and shot me an apologetic look. “I’m not sure what you thought of me accepting that donation to promote your book but I want you to know it was never just business and never just a transaction. And even though you didn’t do it yourself, it brought you into my life and honestly that’s all that matters to me.”

Pleading eyes locked with mine as long as he dared keep them from the road and I sighed. It was, really, all that mattered. I reached over, grasping the hand he had resting on the gear shifter. His hand flipped for a second, twining our fingers together and squeezing. 

“Did you know I was going to be there?” There was still something nefarious going on. I needed to know if he’d been in on it or not.

His grin was answer enough and the air blew out of my lungs. He’d arranged this; he’d wanted me to be there and to see me. “I sent the tickets to your agent, who is somewhat of a hard ass. He wanted me to sign an affidavit that I wouldn’t mess with you if you came.”

That sounded a lot like Tony and it made me laugh. “He had to pick up some pretty jagged pieces in September. I can understand why he wouldn’t want to do it again.”

Henry gave my fingers another squeeze before he needed the hand back to shift. “Yeah; I get that.”

I had the distinct impression Henry still had some jagged pieces that needed smoothing over and putting back into place.

We pulled into the drive of a detached single family home not long after. Most of the buildings so far had been rows so we must have gotten into the real fancy neighborhoods. He gallantly opened the door and I gave him a tight smile. I was getting nervous. Into the den of the beast and all that but it was still Henry and he’d never given me a reason to worry in his presence.

He let us in the front door but made me stay behind him as we waited for his best friend. The click of dog toe nails on the hard wood floors made me grin. Henry called out for the dog and the Akita picked up speed. Around the corner and right into Henry’s legs. He laughed as he caught Kal and indulged in a few pets. Then he asked Kal to sit. “Come and say hi. He’s been moping about you being gone as much as I have.” His eyes found mine and he pulled me around to his front. 

Henry hadn’t been lying. Kal was very happy indeed to see me. He went from sitting to paws on my shoulders with a happy woof. That fuzzy tail went crazy and I would have stumbled if Henry hadn’t caught me. I stood sandwiched between the two for a very long while, letting Kal give me kisses. “Alright Bear: down.” I almost pouted when Henry called off the beast but immediately started laughing when the dog took hold of my hand and tugged.

  
“Kal? What are you doing- don’t bite me! I haven’t kissed Hen once in front of you!” I looked back at the dog’s owner in panic but Henry was calm as you please hanging his coat up in the hall. No concern whatsoever that I was being dragged off by a beast of a creature. I let the dog lead me past a kitchen with an amazing wrap around breakfast bar and more counter space than should be allowed. He guided me down a short flight of stairs into a recessed living space. We stopped in front of the couch. I was still laughing when the dog hit the side of my knee and I collapsed on the cushions.

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous, dog. Henry, what possible reason could you have to train this behavior?”

I heard the chuckle behind me and glanced back to see the Brit advancing on me. The laughter died on my tongue at the look of concentration on his face. I gulped. Without the jacket he’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. A bottle dangled casually from each hand.

Yeah, I didn’t know this particular incarnation of Henry. But I liked it. An awful lot. The glass was cold when he laid it against my neck for me. I felt like I had a lot of bare skin going on with the plunge neck dress. Henry circled the couch and came to stop in front of me. He looked like a man starving, myself the only meal he’d seen in weeks.

I supposed in some ways I probably was unless he’d had that mouth on other women. The desperation and pain in his earlier confession made me think that was unlikely. 

“Thanks for the drink.” He tipped his bottle at me in a salute and we both sipped. Sparkling water. It was a good call not to imbibe. Not tonight. Tonight felt like a reckoning and we should both be sober. 

“Can I get you anything else?” 

I shook my head mutely and he took a seat on the couch. It was dark in the room, illuminated only by the light coming in through the half wall with the kitchen. He looked dangerous, hair gel giving up and allowing curls to spill freely over his forehead. His hands clenched twice as he stared at them and tried to gather his thoughts.

I still felt ridiculously exposed and I drew my feet underneath my body. Making myself a smaller target and harder to hit with his well deserved frustration. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

He looked at me sideways, eye brow cocked. “Well, I haven’t lied to you so whatever you’re asking about, yes. Earlier tonight. In September. Anytime, really. I meant it.” A shiver ran down my spine and I wished for a blanket if only to hide the goose bumps.

“I meant love. You said you were in love with me but it just doesn’t make sense. That’s a lot to suggest after three days of crazy sex.”

He leaned back, both hands rubbing over his face. “You’re a really good writer but you’re not the best listener are you? Don’t you remember me bearing my soul and admitting I’ve been half in love with you since the Spring?”

That didn’t really mean anything. We’re adults; adults don’t have _crushes_. I shook my head. “That’s ridiculous, Henry. You don’t know me, no matter how many breadcrumbs you’ve found online.”

He lifted his fingers so he could stare me down. “I think I probably know you better than you think.” My own hand shook as I lifted the bottle. This was just- insane. “You have three degrees, you’re way too smart to work in a bank, and you, impossibly, know more about Red Dwarf than I do which is a rather big accomplishment because darling, I have seen that show more times than I’d care to admit.” I smirked through his description and let out a chuckle. He slid closer, a hand grabbing mine and bringing it to my lips.

So sweet, but superficial. “That’s not me though. I’m not my degrees. Obviously since I was working two jobs to make ends meet before you saved my ass.”

He shook his head. “No, that’s not you but it’s a part of you. Like your kindness. The look in your eyes when you see someone else experience immense nerd joy. You have a way with your talks where you treat everyone in that room like they’re just as invested as you are, at all times. And you’re the same way when it’s just the two of us. You give all of yourself, all the time.” I blushed at his appraisal and I tried to look away in embarrassment. Henry caught my chin and brought my eyes back to his.

“It’s immeasurably sweet and lovely and _very_ flattering but it’s also strange because I know you have quite serious commitment issues.” My blood chilled and I worried where he’d take this impromptu mind reading session next. “You’ve had a couple long term relationships that haven’t panned out because every time things get serious you get cold feet.” 

Cold feet? He was one to talk, Mr. Had a Fiancée and then Didn’t. I’d married before I’d called it off, unlike him. The game was almost not fun at all anymore and I shifted further into the corner cushions. Henry didn’t follow but he did give me a very pained look before continuing. “I don’t know for sure but I suspect it’s because you’re parents died when you were a kid. You’ve also got a pair of older brothers but you never talk about them so they’ve probably left you too.”

I felt the ice cold reality of that loss splash over me and I gasped at the sensation. “Stop.” He shouldn’t have said that. He just- he wasn’t _allowed_ to talk about them, no one was. No one. Not even someone I’d still gladly welcome to my bed. 

“Liv. Please, I’m just trying to show you-“

“No. Stop. You don’t get to know about my brothers. Not right now.” There were tears in my eyes and I was shaking in earnest now. 

Hen watched me with a concerned gaze for long minutes before coming to a decision. He nodded to himself and set his drink aside. I expected him to stand, help me up, and then help me out the door. Good bye overly complicated Canadian Lady.

It’s what every single other men had done in his situation. Why would he be any different?

I stiffened at his touch on my calf and klaxon alarms blared suddenly in my mind. He paused with my jerk and met my eyes. “Let me see your feet Liv.” His tone brooked no disobedience but he was still asking. Relatively certain I wasn’t about to be assaulted I freed my still shoe-clad toes from underneath myself. 

He unbuckled my heels gently, first one foot then the other. The shoes were carefully placed on the floor next to the couch and my legs were gently cradled in his lap.

He wasn’t running. 

He was about to give me a foot rub?

“Henry.” There must have been something desperate and yearning in my voice because instead of rubbing my feet he surged forward and covered my mouth with his own in a brutal kiss that had me grabbing hard at his collar. I was going to tear the damn thing. At least then he’d never have to worry about it being too tight on him. Before I could rend the fabric, he’d backed up just as quickly.

When I opened my mouth to protest, his thumbs dug into the ball of my left foot and I let out a deep groan instead. Kal whined from across the room and his face peeked up over the coffee table. If that dog bit me while I was getting a much desired foot rub I would be quite cross.

  
Kal settled and then I settled, allowing Henry’s hands to calm me back into a supine position. “I’m sorry I pushed. Please keep telling me to stop if I cross a line. But, I want you to know that I’m looking forward to the day you are happy and willing to tell me any part of your life that I don’t know.” 

“Are you sure? For someone who doesn’t do much with herself I have a lot of baggage.” He hit another particularly tough knot in my arch and I threw my head back. It felt heavenly.

“I’m positive. I can bench press a lot.” He gave me a comical flex under his shirt and all of my protests vanished. This amazing, wonderful, weird man had been invested in my life for a long time. He’d tracked me down and become my friend and my lover. He’d pined and respectfully given me space after I’d made the dumbest mistake of my decade.

“There are still a couple of mountains we need to climb, Hen.”

He grinned at me, beatifically in the low light. “I know but that’s going to be part of the fun.”

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“I fucking love this dress. I want to see you wear it again, but not right now.” His growl was low and urgent at my back. The strong hand that swept the spaghetti straps from my shoulders didn’t hesitate in the slightest. I shivered as the fabric dropped to the floor with a whisper. Bare, I stared at our reflection in the mirror. I hadn’t expected to get laid when I’d dressed that afternoon but I’d put on my fanciest black lace under ware anyway because that’s what one did when wearing a slinky dress.

The look of pure hunger in Henry’s eyes made my knees weak. It had been a serendipitously good choice.

He was hot behind me, stripped of his shirt, and heavy at my waist. I tried to turn in his arms, kiss him and run my hands up a chest that had only gotten wider but he held me fast. Held me fast and kept my gaze as his own fingers wandered. They traced the cups of my bra, peaking against straining nipples and then moving on. I didn’t whimper, not once, when he teased. I was fixated on the look of pure adoration in his face.

This was still going to hurt. Not the sex. The sex was going to be fantastic but Henry was going to hurt me, one way or another. I believed with every part of my soul that he wouldn’t mean it, though, and as soon as he knew about the offense he’d fix it. Because that was him. He was a fixer and a giver. Calculated kindness.

He finally dipped into my panties, his nimble fingertips pressing down. Down on my clit and then sliding into the slick that was waiting just for him. He hummed his appreciation into my neck. “I kind of want to take you just like this so you can see what you look like cuming around my cock.”

His words short circuited my brain and I let out a choked moan. It made him chuckle. 

“Come on love, let me prop you up.” His hands bracketed my hips and walked me backwards around the bed. I could still see our faces clearly over the bedspread and I gulped as he bent me over.

The duvet was soft under my cheek. 

I knew he’d meant for me to be watching myself but I couldn’t keep my eyes off his form as he ripped at his belt. He growled again, frustrated at the slowness and then he was naked at my back. 

Fuck I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten the strong jut of his cock, proud against his taut stomach and the utterly crushing look of desire he leveled at me as he was I was watching. He slid a hand along my back and down into my seam. My hips bucked at the sudden intrusion of a finger and the curl. He grinned at my squeal and I shifted back into him. I needed more. I needed him, the aching emptiness inside me taking over my thoughts. All sensory output had been diverted to my core, waiting. Waiting and wanting. Needing every bit of him. “Come on Hen. Fuck me.”

He was frenzied as he took himself in one hand and then lined up. The stretch of his wide cock pushing past my folds and in was exquisitely painful. Not stretched I must have felt like the tightest glove. That thought made me buck harder and my breath escaped in a shaky exhale. Every inch he gave me felt like the last, the length of him stretching me to bursting.

Finally I felt his balls nudge my pussy lips and I let my head drop onto the mattress. He ran a hand up my ribs approvingly. “Good girl.”

The words dropped my stomach to the floor and what a weird time to realize I might have a praise kink. “Oh fuck, Hen. Move. Now.”

He muttered something that was either, yes ma’am or you’re done. I couldn’t tell over the sudden scream he ripped from my throat at the feel of him delivering a well placed jab to my cervix. He felt impossibly bigger from this angle and my chest was tight with the sensation. 

I wasn’t going to last long.

If his frantic thrusts were any indication, he wouldn’t be long behind me. It became a race and I wedged a hand underneath me to help myself along. “You’re supposed to be watching, love.” His growl sent another shiver down my spine, arching my back. It brought my head up enough that I could see the look of concentration on his face in the mirror.

  
I could see he was close with his clenched teeth and the way he was holding all of himself back in his shoulders. His grip was bruising at my hips but the muscles bulging above me indicated it could be a lot worse if he wasn’t keeping himself in check.

It was fucking hot to think of. I felt manhandled in the best way but he could _do better_. One day I’d let him, gladly giving him my complete trust. The thought had me gushing, the orgasm overwhelming me out of nowhere. My legs collapsed and Henry’s hands were the only thing keeping me upright at all.

“Aww fuck Liv. You’re so beautiful.” The dichotomy of his fierce expression and his soft words almost brought me to tears. I pressed my face to the mattress and my ass against the man behind me, giving him as much real estate as possible to work with.

It didn’t take long until he was roaring my name.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Henry was happily passed out behind me in the sweaty heap he’d maneuvered us into. I’d been useless post coitus, loose limbed and dumb tongued. Henry had arranged me in his beautiful huge bed. Had fetched a towel and a glass of water and then had diligently refilled it after I’d quickly drained it. After the water and the clean up and a startling short 30 second attempt at conversation Hen had passed out. His arm was heavy across my abdomen and his curls were tickling the back of my neck. It was hot and sticky and there were limbs where they shouldn’t be but it was fucking _perfect_.

Past Me was a fucking moron, Present Me was starting to realize. Past Me didn’t understand the best fucking thing she could ever possibly hope to have. Present Me was fucking well aware that this wasn’t transactional. My attention had been earned, not purchased. And it was a sweet thought.

Henry tightened his grip and I blinked back the tears. My life was in Red Cliff. I’d always known it. But. Here I was. In a very different Redcliffe. And it felt like _home_.

Two fluffy ears and a questing snout appeared at the end of the bed and I laughed at Kal’s sad expression. He whined softly, head tilted to the side. Behind me Henry shifted, pulling me tighter. “Well, come on then Bear.” He was half asleep and his words were so soft but it was exactly what Kal had been waiting to hear. The dog was gentle as he climbed up, curling up happily at our feet.

Okay.

Now it was fucking perfect.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the other side of the story! Starting from here we're going to have a few chapters of Henry's POV (and related friends). Everything here was predestined. This was the backstory I was writing from the whole time. Right here is exactly why I don't like writing 1st POV because there's not exploration past the immediate seen reality. Anyway. 18k of the parallel experience coming up in the next few chapters.

Mid February, 2018.

Kylie McHale did not normally _lounge._ Her go was always set to _on_ and the idea of quit made her laugh. Thunderstorms welcomed her into the world from her mother’s womb some twenty years prior and she’d spent every moment between then and now making sure no one would ever forget her name.

Except.

Except she’d somehow landed herself in a career that would take her around the world and show her many splendid things, when it suited the career. But then she’d spend days and days and weeks and _months_ holed up in her tiny Cheswick flat. Waiting.

And _waiting._

That was life, being the personal assistant to a famous actor. Nine months straight she was jumping time zones and drinking with the best of them. And then now, like this very moment, she was three months into a forced vacation _losing her ever-loving mind_.

Her gramma would flip her shit if she saw Kylie in such a disarray but what was she to do? Henry Cavill was popular and had no use for her on a film set. On set his days were structured to the point of monotony and she’d just be underfoot. So she stayed home during filming, fielding calls from around the globe and typing out her daily reports. Calling if something juicy came up.

Nothing particularly juicy ever did.

It was this edge of ennui which had her scrolling through Instagram, noting the success and failure of her undergrad cohort. Most of the people she’s gone to school with at McGill were squirreled away in boring finance careers, living the good life in Toronto. One name caught her attention and she clicked on her ex’s profile with a self-defeated sigh. Kylie had an Achilles heel and its name was Rachel Guerrin. Rachel with the sass and the brain that wouldn’t quit. Along with the fucking legs for _days_. Kylie’d always been a sucker for the brainy ones and Rachel had checked each and every single one of her boxes. And then had checked her box and well. That’s a story for another story.

Rachel seemed to be floundering, if her IG was any indication. As a publicist she should be hopping around the globe like Kylie would in a good year. Instead all her photos were of Cow Town and the surrounding lands. Jesus, she’d even posted an awkward photo of herself and an actual cowboy during Stampede. Kylie laughed right out loud at Rachel’s almost disgusted expression. 

Poor girl.

But she’d done it to herself.

Kylie kept scrolling and finally found a smile, sometime in June of the previous year. Rachel was out with another woman, one Kylie didn’t recognize. The caption read: _celebrating the release of this one’s second book. Give_ The Vine Wars _a read and tell them Rach sent you! This setting is going to grab you by the heart and drag you into the netherworld._

The woman was pretty in a conventional, most likely Metis, sort of way. Kylie had kept in touch with Rachel but not closely. She hadn’t realized the publicist had taken on an author. Authors were notoriously difficult, according to the ex. As Kylie moved to the next photo her finger glanced over that heart icon and she sucked in a deep breath. Fuck. That was going to show up in the notifications and then Rachel would know she’d been stalking.

Unliking the photo was just as damning.

Kylie held her breath and stared at the device in her hands, willing it to stay silent.

It didn’t. Things with Rachel were never quiet one Rachel had decided they were interesting.

> Guerrin93R: ?
> 
> Guerrin93R: Creeper. Don’t try to pick up my girl. She’s straight and too much of a nerd for you.
> 
> Toepicks-and-Carnations: Give me a break. I’m lonely. The British are well boring.

In her head, Henry laughed at her attempts at English slang. He’d tried, one long and frustrating night caught in a snow storm in fucking Norway, to swear like a proper Brit and it had failed spectacularly. He wasn’t even British, not _Proper British_ , and fuck him for trying to teach her slang. One day not long after she’d introduced him to Quebecois swearing and _that_ had been a revelation, with all his Catholic guilt and blushing. He didn’t blush often but when he did it was almost transcendent in its beauty.

She’d only sort of forgotten that he knew French before detailing the particular inflection one used to tear down a man with religious iconography.

> Guerrin93R: At least your client isn’t insane and insistent that she will never do a public appearance and I quote: I’m too pretty to be on the internet.
> 
> Guerrin93R: Like. Woman?! Why did you hire me?!
> 
> Guerrin93R: To complicate things further
> 
> Guerrin93R: She’s the last in a long line of duds and I think I might be over Calgary. Once and for all.

Kylie sucked on her teeth is frustration. She’d loved Rachel when they had been together, deeply, but when she’d gotten the Cavill gig, Rachel had dumped her ass quick as you please. _I’m not moving to England. They don’t have proper winters, for Christ’s sake_.

> Toepicks-and-Carnations: it can’t be that bad.
> 
> Kylie crossed her fingers. _Don’t let it be that bad._
> 
> Guerrin93R: I’ve had the worst luck. You remember Rob, that singer. Self destructed on Twitter. 

That had been particularly painful. The whole thing had exploded over a loaf of bread in a supermarket and at the end of it Rob had been banned from basically every radio station in the western hemisphere. _Painful_.

> Guerrin93R: Then that fucker Jamie with the counterfeit maple syrup ring.

The blond let out a sharp bark of laughter and had to set her phone down while she reminisced. The counterfeit maple syrup ring had been main stream noise for months. Everyone knew someone who knew someone who was involved and _they were all going to jail for a long time_. Rachel’s client actually was directly involved and Rachel had gone to several depositions clearing her own name.

> Toepicks-and-Carnations: The gods must be laughing at you.

Rachel didn’t send anything for a long time and Kylie felt a weight settle in her stomach. It was one thing to be joking and friendly with an ex. It was another to suggest they’d brought down a mountain of problems on themselves.

> Guerrin93R: I know you’re not quoting Princess Mononoke at me because that would just be cruel. Honestly all I want is for the world to read Orton’s shit. It’s good. Like, really good.
> 
> Guerrin93R: Like. I read both books in less than 24 hours and you know how I feel about fiction.

Kylie did know. If Rachel had been hooked there had to be something there.

> Guerrin93R:: She’s such a sweetheart too. Stubborn sometimes but stupid nerdy and just . . . easy to talk to. If I could get her onto a show of any kind I know she’d wow people.

Some days Kylie wished Henry was less social. He never shared truly personal details but the man hadn’t met an interviewer he didn’t want to talk to. And talk he did. He needed something in his life that wasn’t work or his precious dog.

Kylie smiled, thinking of Kal. She missed the fuzzy beast. The only downside to the upcoming press tour was they’d have to leave the dog behind. There were way too many quarantine restrictions on animals in Asia.

Not for the first time Kylie wished Henry was dating someone again; or dating someone who actually _liked_ dogs and wasn’t putting on a front to fuck her way into Henry’s circle. A girlfriend would mean an automatic dog sitter. And Kylie wouldn’t, pray to God, have to think about calling up one of Henry’s brothers. 

> Toepicks-and-Carnations: Is she single? I could use a quiet accomplice to handle Henry.

It was an innocent enough question and Kylie’s fingers had typed the words without thinking of any deeper meaning. After a good fifteen seconds without a reply she began to second guess herself. 

She might have taken this a step too far.

> Guerrin93R: She is actually
> 
> Guerrin93R: And
> 
> Guerrin93R: This idea has merit. They’re both giant nerds. And are weird. Not weird like us but like
> 
> Guerrin93R: Weird.
> 
> Toepicks-and-Carnations: Henry isn’t weird. He’s just reserved.
> 
> Guerrin93R: He’s weird Kylie. You can deny it but it’s true.

Fuck, Rachel _was_ right. She’d stumbled on to a lot of nerdy strange behavior during her tenure. If Rachel’s author was the same who was she to suggest they weren’t perfect for each other. They could be soul mates. They just had to . . . meet. And stuff.

> Toepicks-and-Carnations: Don’t take this as me throwing you a bone because you’re a strong independent woman who don’t need saving.
> 
> Guerrin93R: HA! You know it.
> 
> Toepicks-and-Carnations: But I’ll read them and if they’re good I’ll have Henry take a look. You know what kind of dumb nerd he is. Maybe he’ll fall madly in love and we can both ride off into the sunset.

The _together_ was explicitly not implied because that ship had sailed.

Rachel was once again silent for far too long. 

Kylie could count on one hand the amount of times she’d presented opportunities to Henry that she’d personally cultivated. He’d left the option open in her contract but she hadn’t ever wanted to push. 99% of the time Henry was a dream to work for; she would never risk that relationship.

> Guerrin93R: You’d do that?
> 
> Toepicks-and-Carnations: If it would help, yeah. I still have your back.

More drawn-out silence.

Kylie was already pulling up the Amazon page for Liv Orton, adding both books into her cart. She was intrigued now, no matter what Rachel decided.

> Guerrin93R: Yeah. I mean. 
> 
> Guerrin93R: Yes. That would be amazing. But only if you’re comfortable with sharing.
> 
> Guerrin93R: I mean.
> 
> Guerrin93R: I’m going to shut up now because I don’t deserve this kindness.

Kylie’s heart melted by degrees as she saw Rachel flounder. It was sweet, knowing that she could still elicit such clumsiness after all these years. It left a familiar ache in her chest and a smile on her face.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Somewhere over Europe, late February

Filming was officially done for MI6 and Henry was officially exhausted. Fallout had taken more out of him than any other shoot, both physically and mentally, and he was looking forward to the month or so of downtime he had before the press junkets would start.

One thing he was definitely looking forward to was quiet. Kal and his computer and the best noise canceling head phones on the market. Just. Quiet. He never minded the bustle of his work and he always appreciated the peace that it afforded him. Win-win all around, boot up Steam and get to looting.

Kylie gave a hum in the seat across from him. He glanced up from his phone to find her impeccably made up lips draw into a scowl. She was fierce, his PA, and he appreciated every single thing she did for him because it was one less thing he had to worry about. He’d been without her for almost three months and it was proving difficult to sit back and let her take over the minutia. His eyes tracked her movements, noting her general distress. Something small then, not worth worrying about. He made to go back to his phone but she made the noise again.

“Alright, what’s wrong?”

She waved a hand at him and he put his phone down, clearly indicating he was invested. “Remember Rachel?”

He flipped through his mental rolodex. “Ex-girlfriend Rachel? The publicist?” He’d met her early in Kylie’s employment and had been indifferent. They seemed sweet together but the end of that whole mess had seen him awkwardly patting his PA’s back and buying her ice cream to try and cheer her up. If Rachel was back in the picture he’d need to start looking into the best spots for break up consolation desserts again.

“Yeah. She’s been working for this PR firm and they keep giving her the dud clients.”

“Giving her duds or challenging her with them?” Rachel was smart as a whip and could out maneuver most criminal masterminds. It was one of the things that made him uneasy around her: she was always two steps ahead of Kylie, and him by proxy.

Kylie rolled her eyes. “You and your optimistic outlook. Fine. Challenging her except she’s only got one that hasn’t completely fizzled.” His PA didn’t _pout_ but she certainly had a put upon expression that he didn’t like. “She wants to move out to London.” 

His eye brows shot up and he actually dropped his phone to his lap entirely. “Oh?” Now that was . . . panic inducing. He knew Rachel loved Calgary. Like, was unnecessarily judgmental about London because it wasn’t home and had refused to relocate when Kylie had. It was a big reason why they’d stopped sleeping together. If Rachel were to come to London . . . he wasn’t particularly keen on the thought.

He wasn’t comfortable with what it could do to Kylie and he needed his PA in top shape. They would be in China soon and her Mandarin was a lot better than his. “How about the one that hasn’t fizzled? What’s up with that one?”

For some reason Kylie smiled. 

That . . . also made him nervous. There was a plot a foot. What had Rachel schemed up this time?

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Henry had been careful to cultivate his image, particularly when it came to endorsements. He had never promoted an author before, preferring to subtly follow artists he liked on socials in case any of his fans wanted to check them out too. 

He’d told Kylie no, when she’d initially suggested giving _The Vine Wars_ a shout out. He hadn’t read it, he had no idea who this Liv Orton was and he wasn’t particularly interested in _that_ kind of promotion. And then she’d reminded him that if it helped Rachel’s client it would keep Rachel in Canada and as far away from his promotional tour as possible.

It was, on the surface, a win-win for everyone involved. 

Rachel even reported that Orton wanted to make a donation to Durrell in his name. The Challenge was coming up in a few months and it was quite thoughtful. It showed the author had actually taken the time to research the things that were important to him. Thoughtful and flattering.

He said yes. As long as he liked the books because he wasn’t about to sell out.

Little did he know he’d just agreed to fall in love with another world. Orton’s writing wasn’t overly flowery and it didn’t overwhelm the story. Rather it took his hand like an old friend and brought him along for an amazing journey. He crushed both books in three days. Nine hundred pages snuck in between work outs, career management, and mildly sleepless nights.

He hadn’t cried at the end of _Wars_ , at that infuriating cliff hanger. At least, not much.

Kylie laughed at him the morning after he’d finished then had asked if he liked the books. He gave her an exasperated look because of course he had. She knew him way too well. “So, we’re doing this? I can call Rachel and have her start the donation process?” 

With sleep deprived eyes he gave a nod and started to mentally put together the promotion. There were a few other details to cover that Rachel and Kylie could work out. But first he wanted to go over the books again. Just to be sure he didn’t miss anything important.

April

Somewhere over Asia Kylie handed him her phone and told him his new favorite author was giving a talk at that very moment, all the way in Toronto. It was the perfect opportunity to find out if she had any spoilers for book three. Henry set aside his own phone and focused in on Kylie’s much smaller screen. The shot was at a distance in a two story book shop. Cracks and pops hid most of her voice but Henry could catch snippets of her words. She laughed, the sound clear and it made him grin. Insanely dorky, partial snorts and a whole lot of giggling, Liv laughed like she didn't have a care in the world. He quirked a half smile at the sound as the footage zoomed in. He sucked in a breath.

There was a joie d’vivre to Liv Orton’s face that made him rethink his entire purpose. She looked so . . . free, laughing with her audience and swaying gently on the stool they’d given her. One leg was folded up under her butt and the other swung free. Her dark hair was loose down to her shoulder blades and he could see the twinkle of her clear blue eyes even with the bad visuals.

He’d seen photos. Of course. Kylie had given him a whole primer. He’d devoured it, heart tripping over the tragic loss of her parents. He’d smiled at her academic career. She’d spent a semester studying at Oxford and had even done a two week stint in Jersey, researching Jerriais. In 2006. It took a little bit of mental math to determine he hadn’t been home at the time and it stung.

He could have met her eight years ago. What if she’d met another islander and fell madly in love? What if they were in a torrid affair now or married or-

The audio cut out for a second and he saw Liv Orton laugh, open and free. Her smile was wide and without reservation. She was every inch a woman who’d lived a life and been around the block and come back for more because she could. It set off a series of butterflies in his stomach that he would spend months trying to calm but never would.

This was the first moment he looked at Liv Orton and started to fall in love. 

Just a little bit.

And it was sticky and sweet and built upon a house of cards, small moments glimpsed from cracks in the internet but he felt . . . alive in a way that was hard to find in his line of work. It was the shine that seemed to wear off with every mile traveled.

He soared, listening to her read an excerpt ( _his favorite showdown from Wars_ ), to just chatting about parallels between her world and the Canadian Parliament circa 1994. The ephemeral _they_ always say write what you know and she took her tenth year on this planet to carve out a place where her hurts were inconsequential. Where her _obviously_ gay brother wouldn’t have suffered and left her. 

Liv was an island. 

He set his sights on her shores and knew that he’d have to meet her.

_Soon_.


	14. Chapter 14

May, Los Angeles

Not even 10 AM, it was much warmer stepping onto the tarmac in LA than it had been taking off in New York. Henry could feel it with every movement of his body, instantly sticky in his worn cotton button down. He could feel the sweat drip down the middle of his back and the way the air here seemed to press in like an uncomfortable welcome. It could have been home, was home for a small period of his life, but it had never settled for him. It was too . . . bright. Too all consuming. 

Kal gave his leash a sharp tug and Henry let the dog lead him on a sniff-chase around the asphalt. They ended at the closest possible bush and he let Kal do his business while fiddling with his sunglasses. There was so much damn sunshine here. Jersey wasn’t cloudy for certain and London got plenty of rays but they weren’t anything like LA. He was still messing with his glasses when a petite shadow fell over the dog. Kylie.

“Okay boss, first to Sal’s office for the meeting with the Netflix people and then a stop at the townhouse, they stuck us up in the Glen this time, to drop stuff off. Let the ladies primp you for the shoot, then the shoot. That’s down on Melrose by Paramount so we’ll have to-“

Henry huffed out a sigh, the humidity already making his hair curl. “Kylie. We just went over this in the plane, not thirty minutes ago.“ He had a warning in his tone. He’d been up since 4 AM and she’d been on him about how much they had to get done in a relatively short amount of time.

His assistant waived her manicured hand dismissively. She was kind of cute when she was super focused like this and he gave her a fond half smile. Cute but persistent. “So, Melrose, and then you’ve got that pre-recording session with the Fallout sound people. I think I read Simon will be there so I suspect dinner and drinks to follow.”

He waited patiently for her to wrap up her semi-rant. At the end of it she took a deep breath and he quirked an eyebrow. “Finished?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Until we get to the car. Speaking of which-,“ She practically shoved him towards a hanger, motioning for the porters to get their luggage to the transport. Since hiring Kylie he’d been late to an appointment or engagement exactly once and she hadn’t been there. Whatever the tiny, headstrong lady wanted, she got.

The meeting with Netflix went great. Getting this face to face had not been easy. It had taken a great deal of begging and wheedling and even an exceptionally embarrassing clip of him acting out a scene from Blood of Elves he’d filmed on his phone. But. Here he was and there they were, with paperwork to sign for him to play Geralt.

He couldn’t stop the grin even if he’d tried.

Sal kept him back a glass of bubbly, not Henry’s favorite but celebrations were celebrations. Kylie narrowed her eyes at the glass and gave him the hand signal for twenty minutes. He nodded and turned his attention back to Sal. Best to focus quick and hard. Sal had been with him since the early disastrous days, when Henry’d bounced at a bar not far from where they sat. He had seen Sal fall in love, start a family, get divorced, get married again, get divorced, and finally swear off love altogether.

And then get married again. Henry had been at 66% of his weddings and he was pretty sure this last one would stick.

Sal leaned back on his couch and let out a sigh. “So, if this flops I’m going to blame you but I feel like you’re going to carry this production on your back the entire way if you have to.”

Henry raised his glass in a toast. “I’m quite dedicated to making this the most accurate adaptation we can.”

Sal threw his head back and gave him a deep belly laugh. “You already got the part, Hank. Relax. Enjoy. Oh!” The smaller man bounced to his feet and over to his desk. A curious whicker basket sat on it which he handed to Henry. It was full of cards.

“Fan mail?” Usually Sal sent the stuff that should get a personal response by courier to wherever he was filming. He’d been in London for most of the last two months and Sal should have just forwarded it.

“Sort of. This is all stuff relating to that book you talked about a few months ago. I believe-,“ he dug around in the envelopes for a second before coming up with a plain looking white card. Small. A florist’s card. “The basket had fruit in it; the author, Orton, sent it a few weeks ago.”

Henry’s jaw dropped and he was moderately confused. “She’s sent you a fruit basket?”

“No, she sent _you_ a fruit basket. It was mediocre but fresh so there’s that. She was apparently grateful but not grateful enough to spring for fruit.”

His fingers peeled back the envelope and he freed the card. _It’s not much, not nearly enough to express my gratitude but please know you’ve made a dream come true. YiS, Liv Orton_

His throat closed as he read. Her words. Her words just for him. Staring back at him.

Henry wasn’t obsessed and he wasn’t stalking Liv Orton. He was _fascinated_ and was doing reasonable research on his favorite author. That obviously meant watching all the footage of her book readings and even finding her profile on Archive of our Own, but only because someone on the Vine Wars chat group shared it. It also _obviously_ meant developing a stupidly large crush, horrifically embarassing for a man in his mid-30’s.

He wasn’t too proud to admit he’d been left gob smacked by her small but fierce impact on his life. It was baffling but he was in it now. The only way was through.

And she’d sent him a fruit basket.

His grin was wider than it’d been earlier while he’d signed for one of his own dreams.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

He’d been working over his birthday so the first weekend he had free in London he planned to let the lads take him out for drinks. Nothing big or flashy: he was an old man now. Even if he still didn’t believe he was a day over 27. He’d a room reserved at a quieter pub, a dedicated server, and six of his mates. And probably their girlfriends/wives. Christ, this was going to be a circus. He rubbed his temple as his mom’s voice echoed in his head. _You only turn 35 once, my boy. Enjoy it._ His mother was a menace sometimes. She should be telling him to learn how to knit or knock up the closest woman to provide her with more grandbabies.

His phone buzzed and he snatched it off the kitchen counter. Predictably, he was 20 minutes early for the party and waiting for a ride. Someone had posted on Farthest Sovereigns, the official _Vine Wars_ group. He settled down on his elbows and lost himself in sword use discord for the Unnerved. He agreed with a lot of it but his training didn’t mesh. He typed out a quick note, explaining sword grips and how it was unlikely the best warriors in the land would be fighting Southpaw, no matter what magical powers they might have. Unless they were natural lefties, it would be ineffective especially against the long sword. And _especially_ in a large fight.

It took approximately two minutes before someone called him an idiot and accused him of being a woman. Henry rolled his eyes, response ready to go, when his door bell rang. He sighed and straightened. Kal whined at his hip and he dropped a kiss on the dog’s head. “I won’t be out late, mum, promise!”

June

Taiwan was _amazing._

The sights. The architecture. The _food_. He was in love. He could find a little apartment far away from the bustle of all of this life and just . . . be happy here. 

But. Alas. Work called. Simon and Tom were already seated, waiving him into the back room they were hiding out in. It was tough work, doing non-stop press tours, but this was one of the more enjoyable ones. Definitely made more so by his co-workers and the camaraderie they’d gladly adopted him into.

Not for the first time he regretted Walker had been the bad guy. This was a franchise he could see himself invested in. In the back of his mind he saw himself in a form fitting black suit, swirling a martini glass. 

There was only one spy franchise he _really_ wanted to join.

Unless they could get UNCLE going again.

Kylie appeared out of nowhere, a gentle pinch at his elbow. Her signal for _you’re day dreaming again come on we can’t be late_. 

After dinner and drinks and karaoke, which he _rocked_ thank you very much, his hotel room was quiet. Kylie was wrapping up her evening report when she broke off with a hmm. He paused, bent over on the couch to take off his shoes. She was staring down at her phone in consternation. He counted to three. She was still frowning.

“Is it catastrophic?”

His question jolted her attention back to the present and she wrinkled her nose. Contemplating something. “Well. Out with it.” It was late and they had an early morning. And every atom of his body remembered the last time she’d made that face she’d pitched the idea of him promoting Liv’s work.

“So. Remember telling me you wanted me to keep an eye out for holes in your schedule where you might be able to meet that author?”

_Bingo._

He tried to casually lean back on the couch and not betray that his entire being was focused on the words Kylie was about to say. “I do. Is there . . . an opening?”

She shifted to her other hip and crossed her arms. “There is. But. It’s at Dragon Con.”

That was problematic. A lot of people and it was just a few months away from a movie premier. He’d be highly visible. But. _Liv_.

She’d gotten a free pass to pop up in his thoughts every once in a while since he’d read the books. Now she was living completely rent free since he’d made the responsible decision to read everything he could about her and he realized she was _almost_ as big a nerd as he was.

And she was _smoking_ hot. 

She was not in the mental rolodex of wank material but she could be. Confident. Tall. Brunette. Beautiful. Funny. Smart. 

“Um. Henry? Are you still with me?”

With a start he realized he’d been staring at the wall behind Kylie’s head just thinking about Liv. _Bullocks_. His cheeks reddened and he cleared his throat. “Yes. Dragon Con. What are the details?” He wasn’t fooling anyone with his serious tone, least of all his PA. She choked back a laugh, hiding it behind her fist.

He let her have her few moments of mirth. As long as she didn’t mention his distraction he could afford her that. “Well, she’s got a panel and a book signing. Thursday and Saturday. We’ll be finishing up in Taiwan that Monday.”

It was tight. For a panel and a meet and greet. That wasn’t a lot of time. _How much time did he want? How much did he need?_

Further, what exactly did he want to _do?_

He’d asked Kylie to keep track of their schedules months ago. Back when all he wanted was the skinny on the next book. Now he wanted to take this woman out to dinner and woo her. Pick apart that ridiculous mind of her and figure out how she was able to put together such an amazing world.

_Ask her why sometimes her eyes were sad._

Fuck. What _would_ he accomplish going to Dragon Con?

“I know it’s a tight schedule but I can leave a few days early and get Kal. That way you guys can have your reunion before we have to take off for France.” 

Cannes would be the weekend after Dragon Con.

That was a _very_ tight schedule and it’d already been a stupidly busy summer. He missed his dog. And his house. But he had a unique opportunity to meet his favorite author, circumstances and happenings be damned. “Can you make sure I fly under the radar? I’m sure Dragon Con asked me to attend and I turned them down, yes?”

Kylie nodded, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “I’ll arrange and see what kind of accommodations I can get.” Two months out . . . it was probably pretty booked.

“Dragon Con is . . . Atlanta?”

Kylie gave him another distracted nod, still typing. “Yeah. It’ll be warm in September.” She gave him a distracted wave and left him alone to his thoughts. The message boards had been abuzz lately with a talk Liv had given a few days before in San Francisco. He hadn’t watched it yet but she had announced that she’d finished the bulk of the writing, leaving the editing rounds before they’d have another book.

December, it was hypothesized.

He queued up the video, smiling at the lone figure sitting at the edge of the stage, legs swinging free. This was her third talk and she’d done the same thing at everyone. Relaxed. Just happy to be conversing about the things that made her happy. She was so free and infinitely patient with each and every question. Even the tough ones she couldn’t really answer but especially with the younger fans. He’d seen her turn countless nervous, stuttered questions into well thought queries. It was one of the things he liked about her most.

His phone dinged. He paused the video and switched to Messenger. Piers had sent a short video of Kal playing with the boys. Henry hated to leave his best friend but he wasn’t about to drag the poor pooch across Asia with their quarantine requirements. His nephews had found a shaggy bear head for Henry’s shaggy bear and his smile was soft, fond, as he watched the three romp in the garden.

Piers came into frame, a finger pointed at the camera. His brother didn’t say anything but the message was clear. _We’ve kept your ‘son’ alive._

Henry was blessed twice over. He blacked out the screen on his phone and set it on the bedside. It was late and they had an early morning. As always. He’d finish the video tomorrow.

July

Europe began to feel like a well worn trail as they snaked across the continent. Stockholm. Paris. Rome. Finally back to London for the world premier and Henry was so _happy_ to see Kal when he climbed out of the cab in front of Pier’s house. He threw reputation to the wind, ignoring the fact that he was a world renown actor, to plop down on the damp ground. Kal bee lined for his arms straight out of the front door, doing that thing where he shook his tail and presented his rump for scratches. Henry had read once that it was a sign of submission in dogs, an acknowledgement of the pecking order.

Henry didn’t give two fucks. Kal licked long kisses up his cheek and he buried his face in Kal’s fur. “This was a long one, wasn’t it Bear?”

He’d have to move on again in a week but it was a whole week of his own house and his own air and his dog. Piers just waved him off when he tried to be sociable. 

Halfway through his home spell Kylie texted him an itinerary to approve for Atlanta. A knot settled in his stomach, thinking about how he wanted to do this. Obviously he had to meet her. Casual? Probably at first. She seemed like the type of woman that would appreciate a hamburger and a beer over fancier fare. He wasn’t interested in wasting time though so he looked for an inside track.

He’d snagged Rachel’s number so he could low key ask for advice on how to get in Liv’s good graces and it had felt moderately invasive. Rachel had actually called after the first awkward text just to laugh at him. Seriously. Five minutes of laughing and then she’d hung up. It was a very expensive way to rub his face in his infatuation.

Rachel had been relatively accommodating after some wheedling. And after a strict promise that she wasn’t to tell Liv. He wouldn’t have been able to bear the embarrassment of Liv knowing.

Kylie’s proposed schedule was _tight_ but not as bad as he’d expected. She’d had him coming into Miami on Tuesday. Two nights there to recharge while she flew back for Kal, and then they’d all head up to Atlanta early Thursday morning.

She’d attached a list of businesses he had ins at, including three gyms she’d already called ahead to. Not only that but she’d listed everyone he knew that was going in case he wanted to meet up with anyone. Kris Holden-Reed. Hmmm, not bad. He hadn’t seen Kris in almost a decade since his departure from the Tudors. He was Canadian. Maybe he’d have some tips on wooing Canadian women. 

There were a lot of great comic artists on the guest list too. Kylie had taken care to find every single one he followed on socials and it was touching. She was a really good assistant.

Oh no. Tom Welling and Brandon Routh were going to be there. That was going to be weird. Was it possible to have too many Supermans in one spot? If the press picked up that Henry was there it could turn into a whole thing where DC was putting him on the shelf, hanging out with the others that had _hung up the cape_. Despite the fact that they weren’t even a year out of _Justice League_. But one could never guess where the paps were going to take things.

It didn’t matter. He was going to be super sneaky and no one would know that he was even there. All back hallways and clandestine dinners. All the things in the dark that would make him blush if he blushed about those things any more.

Maybe he was still carrying a little bit of August Walker around with him. He’d seen Fallout more times than he could count, had done that _ridiculous_ biceps load three times a day for the last two months, and he was living in a headspace.

What would Walker do with Liv?

His face colored immediately knowing exactly what Walker would do and where he’d put her. It wasn’t a particularly polite thought to have about a woman he didn’t know yet so he pushed it away and refocused on his phone. Kylie had one last name on that list. Evans.

A slow grin spread across Henry’s face.

Chris Evans was the reason he’d broken up with his last girlfriend.

No. It hadn’t been like that. There’d been a friendly bet and Henry had gotten a little drunker than he’d meant to. And then he’d returned to his hotel room and his irate girlfriend that was pissed she hadn’t been invited to the _Academy Awards_. Henry wasn’t even sure why he’d been invited but boy had those cookies been delicious. And boy had the girlfriend been angry. 

At the very least, if things didn’t work out with meeting his favorite author and he wasn’t able to sweep her off her feet he could drown his sorrows with Evans.

A moderate plan made, Henry slapped Kal’s butt playfully. “Alright, Bear. Let’s go for a run.” At the word the Akita was off the couch like a bullet and at the door. He’d run Kal that morning and he’d walk him again that evening but anticipation was thrumming under his skin. He needed to do something with himself.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this yesterday. :D

Late August

August ended almost as hot as it had begun despite the fact that Henry found himself on the other side of the world. Around him, Con goers hustled back and forth across the main concourse of the Downtown Marriott in Atlanta. Georgia. He’d never been to Atlanta before and with the excitement of his journey he hadn’t taken in many details.

  
Now, though. Now he watched and allowed the experience to filter through him. He liked cons: there was a lot going on and people were in perpetual states of joy. And panic. And nerdery. He liked nerdery; he liked it a lot and he appreciated the chance to live in it. His hat pulled low and a flannel disguising most of his figure. He was just another fan in the crowd. Or he would have been.

If it hadn’t been for Kal.

Kal was hard to hide with his adorable face and his tendency to draw a crowd. At that moment Kal was uneasy. It’d been long weeks since they’d really been together and he knew the Akita had missed him. Henry had missed the Akita. They’d spent most of the previous day running around the beach down in Miami in the afternoon, after the hottest part of the day, playing in the surf. It had been idyllic and Kylie had laughed at them both.

Speaking of Kylie, his PA tapped his elbow and pointed to an elevator bank half hidden past the front desk. “Those will take us to the service corridors. We can get around faster and quicker off the main concourse I would think.”

He took a second to appreciate her too. She was sharp, all power suit and crisp fresh haircut. Her make-up was on point and Henry knew, for a fact, that those were her fuck-me heels. The ones that only came out for special occasions. He wondered how long it had been since she’d seen Rachel in person and if this wasn’t for the publicist’s benefit.

No, not her benefit. Kylie still smarted from their break up.

This was for _her_ satisfaction and he _approved._

If you loved someone you made it work. Rachel hadn’t put in the effort to make it work and Kylie had paid the price with a broken heart.

“Come on Henry. The panel is gonna start in fifteen.”

He let the petite woman herd him to the basement. Evans was giving a talk somewhere close by and if he’d read the map right . . . yes! He peaked through an open door and saw Evans on a platform in what was probably the largest room in the building. It was packed and Chris was his usually charming self. They’d come up at about the same time, were sort of the same age, and had been navigating the world of the single attractive Hollywood star on the same timeline.

If Henry had lived in the States still he’d probably be pretty good friends with Chris Evans, all things considered. He’d let the American know that he was in town and had plans to meet up with him later. Right then, though, he really wanted to get to the room holding Liv’s panel. He wanted to scope out the best spot to be out of the way.

But first, the toilet. 

He ducked into the loo, following the signs. Kylie took care of Kal while he took care of business and he was rubbing the last residual dampness from his hands when he exited. And came to an abrupt stop. 

_Holy shit. It was her_.

His eyes were the size of saucers as he caught sight of Liv Orton, in the flesh, floating through the corridor. Rachel nipped at her heels and even the sight of the publicist couldn’t ruin the feeling of undemanding peace that settled in his bones. She was there and she was _perfect_. He traced the lines of her face with his eyes, the fall of her hair, the _jerk of her head as she ran right into a support pillar-_

Henry’s feet carried him faster than he’d have thought himself possible and he almost didn’t make it, his arms folding around Liv Orton’s limp frame right before she crashed to the floor. Oh. Oh god-

“Henry!? What the ever loving-“ 

  
“I- Jesus is she okay?” He brushed her hair back from her face, almost in shock that this was happening. He was here, touching her, and she was totally unconscious. Kal barked behind him as he realized his owner was in distress. Kylie held the dog back as best as possible. Rachel fluttered up to his side, pushing him back and away with a glare. “What the fuck, Liv?!”

Eloquent as always, that one. Her burning golden stare sent him back a few more feet and he stood, looking down at the unconscious woman. Still beautiful, she was almost serene. He could almost forget that she’d just _knocked herself out_ and his stomach dropped with the thought. He would be mortified in this situation. 

Rachel shot him a look as he choked back another question. He waited, breathless. She hadn’t hit her head that hard, despite the fact that it had sounded terrible. Liv stirred and everyone released a sigh of relief. Henry’s inquisitive step forward was halted by another look from Rachel. Her gaze was sharp and cutting, signaling that he should disappear.

It was probably for the best. Rachel would know exactly how to handle the situation, and there she was, launching into a slightly insulting diatribe against writers. Kylie gripped his forearm so tight he was sure she’d draw blood and when he glanced down at her she was white as a ghost.

Ah. So they both had a reason to disappear. Henry followed his PA’s direction and let himself be lead away.

As expected, Liv wowed the crowd during her panel. He was on the literal edge of his seat during the discussion. There wasn’t any new information but God she was so comfortable up there. She looked _effortless_ as she fielded questions, handling the fans, and generally just being gorgeous.

He had stars in his eyes, he had to. When he could feel everything was drawing to an end he found himself raising his hand. Kylie slapped his arm, hissing his name, and he ignored her. Liv had been so secretive about the third book and the fans deserved more than that ridiculous cliff hanger.

  
By this time, most everyone around him had realized who he was. They were all exceptionally cool about it too, keeping quiet. But as soon as his arm shot up there were chuckles all around. People shifted in their seats. The aid who’d clocked him the second he’d walked into the room almost fell of their feet bringing over a microphone.

Liv Orton focused on the back of the room and Henry stood. He stood and took a deep breath and spoke words that had been living at the top of his chest for almost six months.

He didn’t pass out.

That was the important part of the exchange. 

He didn’t pass out and Liv was able to place his accent within minutes. He grinned harder as she wrapped up the talk with her usual spiel about the book and Henry was still conscious. Mentally that was a great check mark in the life experiences column. 

But he needed more. He hadn’t flown to Georgia for the scenery.

He’d come for _her_.

Kylie helped him wrangle the dozen fans who clamored for his attention and it was almost ten minutes before he could push his way to the front of the room and the door Liv had disappeared into. Rachel had promised she’d keep Liv nearby and so help him if she’d lied or failed-

The door opened and Henry stepped through. Liv let out a squawk, turning on her heel to face him. Her hands came and he focused in on the phone she held out defensively. It was playing a gif of _him._

_Oh this was going to go quite well._

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

“I don’t understand why you pulled me away. We were getting along swimmingly.” He hadn’t meant to sound whiny but his complaint came across a little childish. Liv Orton had been _everything_ and she’d been perfect. To him and to Kal. He grinned, thinking of the way she’d gone in full for the dog pets as soon as she’d had permission. Kal wasn’t always the friendliest with new people but he had _basked_ in the attention and Henry hadn’t realized it was possible to like her any more than he already had.

But. He sure came away from that meeting with a whole different appreciation.

He’d spent months building this image of his favorite _gorgeous_ author of the year in his head. She hadn’t fit it, not exactly. Rather she’d blown it out of the water. Witty, a little awkward and weird. The same way he was weird. He could see himself enjoying long talks with that one.

And then Kylie had gone and ruined it by pulling him away. It was a code, as usual, when he was in a situation he didn’t want to be in anymore. He hadn’t given her the signal though but she’d used the usual excuses anyway. Had pulled him away without the chance to ask for her number, promise he’d see her later, tell her he had come all the way there just to see if her eyes sparkled as much as he imagined they did with she laughed with mirth.

_They sure fucking did_.

_She’d called him a regular knight in flannel armor_. And he could smell her perfume, the whiff of complex spice that had him leaning even closer.

“Rachel was being an ass and we had to leave. You have that meet-up with Evans in thirty minutes.” Kylie’s pace next to him was brutal, carpet disappearing under her heels like she was the ocean, the corridor the Florida coastline. Irritated. He could see her jaw clench and he frowned. His hand at her elbow slowed her to a stop.

“What did she say?”

Kylie gave him a look. She wouldn’t lie to him but he suspected she was about to downplay the emotional strain of seeing Rachel again. He’d asked her, weeks ago before he’d approved the purchase of tickets for this weekend, if she’d be alright and she’d assured him several times that she would. That Rachel was just a friend.

He was familiar with that kind of _friend_. He had enough of his own _friends_ in his past and he should have known this wasn’t going to be easy on her. He clasped her shoulder and bent to bring their faces level. “If you want to tag out you are completely welcome to go home. Or go to Hawaii. Hell, go back to Miami and use the beach house for the week. I absolve you of work if you need.”

She tilted her head back and drew in a breath. “You’re a fucking asshole, Cavill. You can’t be all sweet like that when I know you’ll fuck this all up if I abandon you.” There was a wicked smirk on her face when she refocused on him.

Kylie always slid back into her façade quickly. Too quickly. He wasn’t fooled but he let it drop for the moment. There was nothing to be gained by fighting her on it. “Fine. But the offer stands. At any point, you can use a get out of jail free card and fuck off wherever you’d like. Deal?”

She pinched his elbow in thanks and looked away so he wouldn’t see her eyes misting. “Deal. Now. Let’s go find Chris Evans. His ass makes me want to sings songs from _The Messiah_.”

Henry let out a huff of indignation on behalf of his friend and stalked after his PA.

Chris was just as jovial as always, meeting him at the bar at the Ritz, where there were both conveniently staying. The price tag at the hotel was high enough for the week that it kept out most of the con goers and only VIP guests of international acclaim would bother booking rooms. It had been the only hotel within 3 miles of the city center that had accommodations befitting Henry and Kal when Kylie had booked.

“Cavill, you handsome bastard, come give us a hug.” Evans’ English accent was atrocious as ever but it made Henry laugh and he embraced the American. 

And then leaned back to squeeze his arm. Henry clicked his tongue in consternation. “You’ve lost some definition, mate. Didn’t you just finish filming?”

Evans gasped, grasping at his neck as though he were wearing a pearl necklace. “Did you just imply I’m _doughy?!”_ It would have been a low blow if Henry hadn’t tempered the statement with a smirk. Evans shoved his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “You fucker. Let’s have a beer.”

Henry waived him off, saying simply, “Pre-production.”

Evans nodded, understanding immediately. “Well, I’m drinking and you’re going to tell me why the fuck you’re in Atlanta when you’re not a guest at this convention. Because I have an inkling and if it’s true I have to warn you. I’m going to laugh at you. A lot.”

Henry was buddies with Evans. He was friendly. But he wasn’t, like, _call the dude up when his life was in shambles_ ride-or-die bros. So Evans wouldn’t know or understand the depth of Henry’s devotion to not only fantasy but also a certain writer who had captured his attention.

Attention he had been very careful to not go overboard with. He didn’t want to scare her off. He just wanted to slide into her metaphorical DMs and . . . never leave. 

“Like I said. There were some panels I couldn’t miss.”

“Couldn’t miss or didn’t want to miss because you’re a giant nerd?”

Henry narrowed his eyes. “Yes.” His answer sent Evans into peals of laughter. After a few seconds of scowling back at the American, Henry joined in because yes, it was actually funny that he was doing all of this for an author who, by all indications, really had no idea who he was.

And he was _really into that._

Like. An unhealthy amount.

“So, without explicitly naming anyone, is it safe to assume that you went to a certain author’s panel today and had a chance to say hello?”

Henry couldn’t hide his pleased smirk and flushed in embarrassment. Evans hummed around his beer bottle and took a deep pull. “What are you doing with her later?” It was like the blond had been privy to his failure to properly engage with Liv beyond their ten minute conversation in the hall. As Henry hesitated, Evans arched an eye brow. “No plans? None at all? Well then. Maybe I’ll go find her. I saw her in the booklet and she is _hot._ If you’re into nerds.”

Henry rolled his eyes, knowing Evans had about zero chance with Liv. Mostly because Henry himself would beat him silly before Evans could try. Henry’d done it before and he’d do it again. “She’s going to the Netflix mixer tonight and, well, I may as well drop by since I’ll be driving their next money maker.”

“OH, yah? I haven’t heard- what’s going on?”

“The Witcher. I’m playing Geralt.” If Henry thought he’d impress Evans he was mistaken. The blond quirked an eye brow and frowned. “Oh for fuck’s sake- it’s a book series. Fantasy. It’s a huge thing in Europe and they have a spectacular production team.”

Evans nodded his head, finally drawing on the importance of the role. “Well, that is awesome. I haven’t worked with Netflix yet but I’ve heard good things. Well, some bad but mostly good. And hey, you love nerd shit.”

Henry grinned; he felt sharp and predatory as he thought of Liv’s wide, soft eyes. “I sure do.”

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

The lavender shirt looked washed out on the clean white comforter but he knew it’d be quite fetching on his frame. The soft color tended to bring out the darker undertones of his eyes, emphasizing his multicolored gaze. His mum told him it was her favorite and the first time Kylie had seen it she’d told him he should only ever wear that specific shade.

So why was he debating about wearing it? He’d specifically brought it so he could wear it to this specific mixer where he knew for a fact Liv was going to be. It was his shirt for this moment. All the other times he’d worn it had been warm ups. This was the real thing and yet he stood there, shirtless, staring down at the thing in indecision.

What if she didn’t like purple?

What if she skipped the whole thing altogether and he’d have to text _Rachel_ and find out where Liv was staying and then contrive some dumb reason for why he’d be standing outside her hotel room without her explicitly telling him where it was?

She was never going to show him her hotel room so that wasn’t even a concern. _Come on, man. Not this again._

“Pull yourself together Cavill.” He slapped his cheeks gently, just enough to spark some action into his body. He donned the shirt, tucking it into his pants and buckling his belt. The look was classic. It was him. He should leave the top three buttons undone.

He should definitely not do that because that would look unctuous. He huffed out a sigh and looked to Kal for moral support, resting peacefully on the couch in the living room. “What do you think, Bear? Shirt open like the dashing star I am or buttoned up like the virginal nerd I haven’t been in a while?” He approached Kal as he spoke. Kal beat his tail against the cushion, smiling up at Henry as he paused in front of the dog. He crouched, burying his face in Kal’s fur. The dog always smelled like home, no matter where they were. Home.

Henry pressed a kiss to Kal’s head, semi-mindful that Liv had done the same hours earlier.

He pulled on his sports coat, tucked a pen along with his copy of _The Vine Wars_ into his pocket, and patted his hips. Testicles, spectacles, wallet, and watch all accounted for. He had another good impression to make and a book that needed signing.

He texted Kylie as he headed to the elevators, reminding her to check in on Kal periodically. As he waited for the elevator, he adjusted his collar, eyes lighting on the buttons on the front where only one was undone.

_Dashing as ever, Cavill._


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMG this took so long. I'm ashamed but I've slept so much the last three days I'm not really sorry. Anyway. Here's wonderwall. And right before the sexy times. I had this broken up that I'd have five Henry chapters but I think I lied. Also, I feel like I need to reshuffle these into order? Or assimilate them into the regular story? Or make it its own story? IDK; I've never ADDED a second perspective after I've written a story before.

The lights were low in the ball room Netflix had booked for their meet and greet. He was moderately excited to actually mingle with some of the higher ups. He’d had several fittings and meetings with production about Witcher; he would vibrate out of his skin with excitement if there wasn’t another very important meeting he was standing a little awkwardly in the door for.

  
His eyes scanned the crowd looking for a familiar dark head and he grinned when he spotted Liv off in the corner. Her nose was buried in her phone and she was chewing on her lower lip. He watched, entranced, as she worried the skin. The sight of it shot straight to his groin and he stifled a grown.

Yes. He was pretty committed to taking Liv to bed. He would obviously take no for an answer but he was dedicated to making sure he put in as much work as he could before he was shot down. Considering the pretty blush she’d had for most of their conversation earlier he didn’t think he’d have much of a problem convincing her to let him worship her body.

Henry had a burning curiosity only Liv could help him with. He wanted to know what kinds of sounds she’d make after he ate her out for a half hour. If she’d let him pull as many orgasms as possible from her loins or if she’d try to squirm away before he could get a third-

His face was red and he felt the first signs of arousal, right here in the middle of this room full of lovely people who had no business knowing what he was packing in his pants. He needed a moment, just a few seconds, to compose himself. He turned to go and immediately drew up short. 

Rachel.

  
Rachel in her ‘kill-me-now’ black flats and the most disinterested expression on her face, standing right there in front of him.

He hadn’t spoken to her in person for five years, not since she’d pitched a fit visiting Kylie in London. When Henry had _really_ needed the assistant he paid good money to do her job and not swan off with her, frankly, waspish girlfriend. He didn’t like to think ill of the woman, but the stink eye she was sending his way was not particularly pleasant.

His feet frozen, he stared her down as she approached and came to a stop in front of him. “Cavill.” Her tone was ice. 

It made him grin. At least she hadn’t changed. “Rachel.”

“Thanks for the tip on the party tonight. If I can get Captain Corner over there to actually talk to someone she might make us more money than you did.”

Henry never really liked to talk money in polite company and he colored at the comment. Liv’s donation had been a very small stepping stone in to his infatuation. It had been such a tiny gesture that had ended up meaning so much. He would commit to dozens of such arrangements if it meant he got to watch her face light up at the sight of his dog.

That 10k was a drop in the bucket of his life and the ripples were still growing. He had to remember to show her the bats sometime tonight so she could see what her donation had accomplished. It was really something, the way the zoo was able to expand on the house and the upgrades they had enacted. He’d ended up matching her donation and had only smirked when the zoo had revealed the plaque on the bat house during the Challenge.

_Cavill/Orton Expansion._

It kind of made him a little giddy. But, like, a healthy amount for a man of his stature. Of course.

“So, Kylie mentioned you’ve been beet red most of the day. I take it you enjoyed meeting Liv earlier?”

He couldn’t _hide_ anything from Rachel. He’d practically begged her through text for non-invasive info on Liv on more than one occasion. He couldn’t hide but he didn’t have to spill all his secrets to the woman. He really wasn’t particularly fond of her, after all.

“Yes. Thank you. I’m surprised to see you here as well tonight. Playing back-up or . . . ?” Changing the subject was always an excellent way to throw someone off their line of question.

Rachel pursed her lips, apparently fully aware that Henry didn’t really want to discuss his completely ridiculous, and adorable by most standards, crush on Rachel’s client. “Well. Fine, be that way. But, be careful with her. She’s been a hot mess all afternoon and I’m pretty sure that’s your fault.”

  
Rachel had meant to warn him off but she’d had the opposite effect. If Liv was a mess that meant she’d been thinking about him pretty consistently. Their short meeting had been as impactful as he’d hoped it’d be. The thought made him grin; Rachel groaned knowing she’d unintentionally stroked his ego. “So, is there a reason she’s off in the corner by herself?” 

If Rachel had been doing her job, Liv would have been deep in conversation with at least three people right now. Especially if she wanted to jump to the small screen. Which Henry was kind of invested in her doing, if only as a fan.

Instead Liv was hiding and Rachel gave him a pained expression. “You don’t know this yet but she’s . . . a little shy? And I don’t think she understands how big this could get.” Rachel had a pensive look then, fingertip tapping on the back of her hand in thought. “Especially with you championing her work. Do you intend to keep that up, by the way? Just out of curiosity.”

In his head Henry head a hundred other acquaintances pitch him terrible ideas on the offhand he’d want to use his fame to help out a buddy. _Just a few words. Give me that foot in the door. You’ll get royalties, of course._

His eyes drank in the sight of Liv, blushing a bit now. If she wasn’t looking at photos of him with an expression like that on her face he’d be damned and head back to Kensington.

He’d had plenty of people try to use him like that but Rachel just sounded curious. As though her fate wasn’t intricately tied to Liv’s, and Henry’s by proxy. “I don’t know.” It was an honest answer and Rachel blew out a laugh. An honest answer in Hollywood was often more useless than the latter.

“Well, no matter what you decide, be careful. Please.”

There was a knowing look in Rachel’s eye when he waved her off and approached the writer. Liv was watching a video of him, but it was also her and he could tell she was holding her breath through all of it. It was so . . . charming. He slid into the seat next to her and began the next part of his seduction.

Over the next hour and a half it became glaringly obvious that Liv was either disinterested in the lifestyle of the successful television writer or she just didn’t understand how the business worked. As he watched her fumble her way through another elevator pitch he decided it was a bit of both. She was earnest as she talked to people but there was a hesitancy, like she was pretty sure she didn’t believe anyone wanted to hear what she had to say.

But she knew her worth. She laughed when people tried to hit her with unfair criticism and if she thought she had really reached someone she would crack open the heart of her mythology and explain, in detail, why she’d written things the way she had. There was nothing in her books that wasn’t intentional, he realized, and it made a funny weight settle in his heart.

As they finished with the last few people she should meet he caught her staring and gave her a smile. “What?” She made to shake off his question but Henry wasn’t about to let that look go unanswered. He snagged her hand, bringing it back to the crook of his elbow in a metaphorical show of not letting her get away. Again.

Her lips quirked and she took a deep sip of her champagne before answering. “How are you so effortless with everyone?”

He tilted his head to one side and thought seriously about the question. He knew most of the people there, having met them several times that year. He’d told Liv as much but perhaps there was a deeper comfort she was seeing. Henry had lived this life for a long time and there was little that threw him off anymore. It was then he realized Liv had no idea what she was doing and she certainly wasn’t looking for this lifestyle. At least not for herself.

Not for the first time, Henry wondered if she’d fit into his world. If she’d make the effort, knowing she was so recalcitrant to find her own fame.

She was still waiting for an answer so he gave her one f his absolutely patented Cavill Charm grins. “Just my sparkling personality I suppose. Why, is it working on you too?”

She colored beautifully and he had his answer. Of course it was. Liv was gorgeous and had seen a bit of the world but she wouldn’t have been expecting a man as prepared as he was. Henry had done all his research; his whole weekend was dedicated to her. Sex or not, he was going to hold tight to her as well as he could.

“On that note, I’m going to disappear to the washroom until I stop blushing like a school girl. Excuse me.” She was gone before he could stop laughing at her abrupt exit. And laugh he did. It drew the attention of a couple of people close by as well as Rachel. The publicist swanned over as soon as Liv disappeared from view.

Rachel did that a lot. Showed up while Liv wasn’t close. Couldn’t see. That felt . . . odd.

“Alright Romeo, thanks for the apple tonight. That was good.”

His brow furrowed at the term and he wanted to ask what she meant by _apple_ but her phone dinged. Rachel held up a manicured finger to keep him quiet and he sighed. She was impossible sometimes. From what he could hear it sounded like Rachel was setting up a hot date for that night. Very likely with _his_ Kylie. He narrowed his eyes and he kept the glare up until she hung up the phone.

Henry firmly believed that women didn’t need men to defend them. Outdated chivalry was the cause to a lot problems he saw on a daily basis. However. “If you fuck her over again I’m going to be real angry.” Kylie wasn’t a woman. Kylie was his friend and his employee and he _really_ wasn’t that fond of Rachel.

The publicist had the good graces to look a little guilty at his words and she looked away. “I don’t have any plans to do anything like that, not that it’s any of your business, Cavill.” Defensive as well as guilty. A slippery combination. Her eyes were sharp when she turned her gaze to his. “Same to you though. You treat Liv well or you’ll answer to me.”

The pair, both equally protective of very important women in their lives stared each other down. Henry would destroy Rachel professionally before he allowed her to walk over Kylie again. A spark of what could only be described as admiration bloomed in his chest for Rachel because he got the feeling she felt the same way about Liv.

“Well then. Now that we’ve had our dick measuring contest I’m going to go.” Her blunt words stunned him for just a second and then he let out a bark of laughter at her crassness. She hadn’t changed a bit. She turned to go but paused to give him a glance. “She’s shy but she’s seen some shit, Cavill. Don’t assume she isn’t interested because she is. She’s just good at hiding it.” 

He couldn’t decide if Rachel was trying to get him to hook up with her client or if Rachel saw Henry as a stepping stone for both their careers.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Somewhere between learning that she hadn’t seen him as Superman and Liv openly propositioning him, Henry decided that no matter how the night ended he would carry the memory of this evening with him forever. She took his hand to cross Peachtree, the glittering hotel lights emphasizing the auburn highlights in her hair. Her smile was wide when she grinned back at him, excited to show him the best bar for pre-party drinks.

Henry let his own grin grow out of control when she’d stumbled just a bit and he had the chance to catch her before she added to the bruise forming on her face. She’d smelled like lilacs and sunshine on a lazy summer afternoon. He held her a beat longer than he probably should have, memorizing the curve of her hip in his palm and the way her heart beat against his ribs. Liv wasn’t a small woman but she fit just right under his arm.

“Come on, Cavill. It’s a long climb up to the 34th floor.” 

He gaped at her. Surely they wouldn’t take the stairs. Even he, in pretty good training shape, would have a problem with so many stairs.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

There’s a karaoke bar a block south of the Marriott. The door reads the Metro Café Diner and he wondered about the diner part for about two seconds. Until they clear the entrance and he caught a glimpse of booths on a second floor. A karaoke bar with a diner overlooking the ridiculousness of the singing. Liv pulled him to a back corner, inviting him to look at the books full of songs.

He’d waved off her request even as she’d flipped through, giving him suggestions.

_Lovefool_

_Wannabe_

_It’s Gonna Be Me_

If Henry hadn’t known better he’d have thought Liv was trying to hit on him. The mischief in her eyes certainly hinted at the possibility but he hadn’t seen that tell. That weakness in a woman’s expression when they’d finally let down their guard enough for him to slip through. He hadn’t seen it from Liv yet so he held back on the singing. He bought her a drink and wondered if he shouldn’t break diet for the night. Just so he could loosen up just a bit like she had.

Liv stood for a rousing version of _Part of Your World_ being belted out by a rather convincing Codex. From _The Guild_. His heart stuttered just a bit at seeing such a niche part of his gamer identity shamelessly singing but pushed it aside. Liv was living her best life, singing along with every word. She looked transcendent, so happy and fully of joy. In that moment she was everything he’d been hoping she’d be and his heart soared.

As the song came to a close, he only had eyes for Liv. Her open, infectious grin was a gift.

-!-!-!-!-!-

A spilled drink and an escape from the rapidly crowding lobby at the Westin brought the pair to the roof of the Marriott. He’d gallantly offered to carry a now shoe-less Liv but she’d declined and it had entranced him. Her carefree way. She’d been here before and was at ease. Entirely. She’d ditched the shy thing about two hotels back. On her fourth drink now, Henry knew there was no way she was drunk. Just. Relaxed. Pliable.

Adventurous as she sank to the edge of the pool and let her feet rest in the cool waters. He was a moth, dragging a chair behind him, and he followed her light, pulling up at her back. He had only mean to give her something to lean against, his hands on her shoulders guiding her back to his legs. He glimpsed her strong nose and sultry lips from above and took a deep breath.

_You’re a world renowned actor. Take a fucking deep breath and make your move man. Before the sun comes up._

Henry swallowed back the ever present doubt of the first eighteen years of his life and he dipped his head down to Liv’s ears. “Is this okay?”

She shivered and nodded. His fingers slid along the soft curve of her shoulders and Henry was lost. He was lost and there was no coming back from this. Months in the making, he succumbed to the desire to put his hands up on her skin and _feel._ His hands traversed the strength of her upper arms and pushed against the tension he found at the base of her skull. She had that tension all writers do, tendons straining from hunching over a computer all day. His ministrations netted him first a hum of appreciation and then a deep, soul clearing groan of enjoyment. 

“Fuck, Henry. Keep doing that.” Her low murmur, more of a plea than a statement, brought him up short. He was so far gone he could almost imagine the feel of her body, warm and soft around him, as he worked into her. She turned her head and glanced back at him. 

_Fuck. Don’t look suspicious. You’re not thinking about burying yourself so deep inside her that she feels it in her chest._ “Hey, are you alright?”

He had to tap out. He needed a breather and he needed to separate himself from this moment before he did something super dumb. In public. Surrounded by people taking photos because of course he’d caught sight of the couple fans who thought they were being sneaky. No one was really sneaky with a cell phone camera, not that they didn’t try. He made his excuse and leaned away, willing the burn in his cheeks to calm.

He was a grown ass man; this fawning should have been beneath him. Instead he was staring at Liv intently, almost challenging her to stand, take his hand, and bring him back to her room so he could fuck her brains out.

In a few moments. When his dick decided not to embarrass all three of them.

Henry tipped his head back, pleading with the heavens to slow all of this down. He just needed a few moments and he’d be fine. He just needed . . . a few moments. A flutter of Liv’s red dress and she stood in front of him. Her soft gaze was understanding. She offered him a hand and a way out of his embarrassment and Henry could have gaped at her.

Perhaps this is what all his friends and his brothers had meant when they’d told him it would be different with someone his own age. Goals and expectations would match up a bit better. Whoever he dated would get the things that were important for someone in their mid-30’s. Right now, not flashing his massive hard on to this entire pool was #1 most important desire.

And Liv knew exactly how to help.

Her delicate hand pulled him to his feet and he followed after her. Out of the pool and towards the elevators. Where a large group of people were milling around. That looked like a nightmare to him so he guided her gently towards the stairs. If they just went down a few floors they could catch a ride and no one would be the wiser. They could go . . . fuck. Henry didn’t know. None of his daydreams had produced the current situation and he was just rolling with the punches at this point 

He would never be sure who exactly made the first move, who started their fall towards this moment, but one second he was trailing after Liv like a puppy and the next she was in his arms and pinned to a wall. Henry took a half second to find her consent, clear on her face, before he pushed up into her and let himself get lost in the sensation of _Liv._

  
She was all-consuming: sweet and needy on his tongue, she was demanding. Her body pulled and tugged, bringing all her sensitive parts flush against his body and it made him _groan._ It was almost a form of witch craft, enchantment and encouragement. He aimed to misbehave and Liv was so perfect under his hands. She mewled when he gripped tight at her thighs and hucked her up higher. 

If there was a moment to live in forever, this was it.

“Hen- Henry, stop.” His brain couldn’t fully process the words. He sort of understood her intention but he let out a groan in protest, almost begging her not to mean what he thought she might have meant. His lips explored, tasting the skin at her jaw. She was so _sweet._ Her voice hovered in his ears as she tired to slow him down. The words were shaky but clear when she explained: Not here. Not right now.

He still didn’t want to admit they were behaving inappropriately and it wasn’t until her hands took hold of his curls that he focused entirely on her words. The loss of control was immediate and intoxicating, her grip sending pangs of _need/want/fuck_ straight to his cock.

Liv wasn’t wrong. They needed a hotel room and quick or else he’d be taking her against this semi-public hallway. 

Her room was closer. Thank fuck. Only a few minutes.

They were down on the street and in an Uber within five minutes. And then that ridiculous ride to her hotel where he couldn’t decide if he should touch her or not. If it was appropriate to run the backs of his fingers against the softness of her cheek. Just because he could.

The car pulled to a stop and Liv climbed out before he could tell her to stay put. He was a gentleman. He should be handing her out of the car.

Instead, she jumped free then turned back to offer him a hand. Her dress was a still disheveled, having barely survived their encounter in the hallway. Barefoot and grinning wildly, Liv Orton was asking him to join her.

Henry reached out with all the bravado of a man closing in on his ultimate goal.

He was going to make her scream his name.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shout out to pensieveforyourthoughts for the lovely beta work! <3 <3 <3

Henry watched Liv disappear into the bathroom then waited a few minutes for her to wash up. She _had_ been wandering around Atlanta without shoes and it was only polite that he let her clean up. He doffed his shoes, socks, and belt. All the better to remove his pants in short order. And it would be a short wait. He couldn’t bear the idea of waiting much longer.

He couldn’t stop thinking about that breathy little gasp she’d let out when he’d gotten his hands on her thighs. And the taste of her still lingered on his tongue. Months of build up and anticipation drove him to stalk to the bathroom door. He had no idea what she was actually doing in there but he had committed to seeing her naked so it couldn’t be anything too bad. Right?

He turned the knob and found the woman of the hour with her skirt hiked up around her waist. Henry stopped dead in his tracks, caught on the black silk panties outlining the curve of her ass. _Fuck_. He had to get his hands on her, as quickly as possible. His footsteps were sure and quick as he crossed the room. He cupped her cheek, tilting her lips up to him. Her relaxed expression and the small smile on her face had him swallowing down a swell of _something_ that felt suspiciously like contentment.

She really did want this as much as he did.

“Condoms?” He hoped he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt. She gestured to the counter and he could see a full box peeking out from a toiletry bag. Fucking excellent. He growled his pleasure before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

Despite her height, Liv was relatively easy to maneuver. She came gracefully when he tilted her head back in order to devour her sweet mouth. Her mewls drove him mad as her legs wrapped tight around his waist. Henry cursed softly at the heat of her core, pressing into his abdomen. She was incendiary in his arms. 

He needed his mouth on that heat, as soon as possible. Deft movements with his fingers and she was bare to his gaze. Her beautiful center was already damp and Henry licked his lips. He teased her for a moment, just a moment, because she buried her grip in his curls and _tugged him_ right where she wanted him. He couldn’t help the whine that escaped nor the subtle shift of his hips against the side of the mattress. He was almost impossibly hard.

And she was impossibly sweet.

His tongue swirled litanies over her clit, just teasing her for a while. He wanted her whimpering and needy, the taste of her hunger growing with every passing swipe of his tongue. Fuck he loved the way she would tighten her grip and guide him to and fro. A woman that knew what she wanted in bed and wasn’t afraid to let him know - what a rare treat indeed.

It meant the orgasms were going to be spectacular.

He lingered longer than normal at the apex of her thighs, his entire being consumed by the heat and wetness of her. When his fingers joined his mouth and sank in without resistance to her tight, wet heat, he let out a filthy groan of his own. She was so close. He just had to- yes. There it was.

His fingers pressed hard to the spot he knew would have her seeing stars. She almost shouted, her muscles seizing his digits. As the grip on his fingers tightened, he could feel his cock swell even more. She was so _tight_ and with the orgasm he was pulling out of her, she would be so wet. He was going to slip right in. That thought had him moaning again.

He pressed a kiss to Liv’s thigh and looked up at her with dreamy eyes. He felt like he was floating, chasing the high of her orgasm as though it had been his own. “You. You are a wonder.” 

Liv’s throaty chuckle had him swallowing hard and then she said the magic words: they were wearing too many clothes. He grabbed at the hem of her dress, tangled around her waist in his haste. He lifted the garment straight off her body then let out a huff at the vision in front of him. A lacy black contraption held her breast delicately, almost like a sacrifice, up to his gaze. 

They looked perfectly sized for his hands and he was cuddling them when Liv’s own fingers distracted him. She tugged at the material of his shirt and he gave a grin. It was only fair play that she be rewarded as well. He undid a couple of buttons then pulled it straight off.

Liv’s eyes raced across his skin, taking in the fruits of his labors, and he grinned. He wasn’t vain, would never ever consider himself as such, but he put in a lot of _work_ to look this good and it was always satisfying when it was appreciated. Especially when it was by a naked woman sprawled in front of him.

Especially when her name was Liv and he would always, vividly, remember the look on her face when he got her off with his mouth.

She was almost childlike in her wonder, her finger grazing the skin on his chest. He let her play for a moment, flexing under her touch. She laughed, her palm sliding up to cup his jaw. She was ridiculous and he was so stupidly into it. Into her.

Well. Not _in_ to her. Not yet.

She flirted a bit and he flirted back, his eyes following her gaze, still caught up in the sight of him. 

_Get you a woman that looks at you like you’re just as likely to fuck her in half as you are to carry her to safety._

“I have an insanely desperate need to ride you.” He stilled, half way leaned over to kiss her, and had to take a calming breath. Juts to be sure he didn’t fucking cum just like that, still wearing his pants. “If that’s . . . okay with you?”

She couldn’t just say things like that. It would kill him dead. But she looked completely serious and Henry wasn’t going to argue the point. He stripped quickly, giving her precious few moments to actually gauge the size of him. Her eyes were fixed on him, hand reaching out to pull him close and _fuck._

Her mouth closed around the head of his cock as though he were a delicacy.

A tiny lick.

His head fell back. The groan it ripped from his chest was _filthy._ She had to stop. She had to stop or he was going to have a blow down her throat then fall asleep like an ass and he couldn’t have that. He chased her away with a warning and a deep kiss. Liv reasserted her dominion with a couple of explicit instructions. 

_On your back. Up at the headrest._

Henry scrambled to comply, hand fisting loosely around his length as she disappeared to get the condoms. Fuck. He should have thought to grab them when he’d fetched her earlier. It didn’t matter then. She was returning, urging him higher up so his eyes were level with hers as she settled around his thighs.

Henry was shaking.

He’d had months of fantasy propping him up until this very moment but there was only so much his imagination could provide. It had given him a rough Liv-shaped and shaded outline. Had superimposed experiences with other women over her form. But it couldn’t quite detail the look of wonder in her eyes as she rolled the condom in place nor the little hiccup he let out at the feeling... his imagination was also a pale shadow of the reality of her form straddling his hips, the chill of her toes tucked under his thighs.

The heat of her dripping pussy as he reached unconsciously towards her warmth.

She asked him if he was ready, of all the things. He gave a short laugh and a tense nod and then she was lowering herself down. Henry held back, as much as he could. She was tight and wet and he could _feel her labored breathing_ as she struggled to take him all. 

He wasn’t so massive, he thought. He brought a hand up, distracting Liv with a tweak of her nipple. He pushed up steadily and felt her pubic bone settle against his. Yes. Yes that was nice. Hot and encompassing, he kept himself still while she adjusted. Adjusted being an interesting interpretation because Liv couldn’t keep still. Her hips shifted, looking for the angle inside her that rang that bell rather than just left her feeling overly full.

“Hen-“ She sounded wrecked, like he really had fucked up into her lungs. It felt like he was deep enough to do that but he hadn’t even begun. Henry cupped her hips, testing the supple skin he found there, and let out an appreciative moan at the feel of her. He needed Liv to move. As soon as possible.

A joint effort, his hands tightened and started guiding her back and forth as she began to roll her hips. Pleasure exploded in his spine, rolling his eyes back in his head. Her walls gripped at him, pulling and flexing around him.

“Fuck. Hen- God, don’t stop.”

_Fuck_. That was hot. Her hair fell into her eyes as she rode him, face tightening as her pleasure built. _Fuck_.

Henry roared as he felt Liv clamp down impossibly tighter around him. Two short thrusts and he was coming. Liv was right behind him, back arching and breast pushed out as she growled her pleasure. She collapsed just as quick, hips still rolling over his oversensitive flesh. Henry gave the sheet two quick taps, indicating that he was done. She laughed and he wrapped his arms around her body. 

He could feel her heartbeat. Where they were still joined. 

His softening dick gave a jerk and he startled at the sensation.

A wave of affection washed over him and he brushed the hair away from her face. Liv looked sated and happy. More importantly she looked perfectly at home sprawled across his chest. As though she’d been sized perfectly for him right at this moment. The thought turned his cheeks pink. 

Liv laughed and he brushed her forehead with his nose. “What’s so funny?”

“Your heart is racing. I can feel it in my lady parts.”

It was a fair point and it made Henry laugh too. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then adjusted her body, keeping the condom on as he slipped free.

He needed to get out of there before he did or said something stupid. Clothes were collected, Liv’s protestations smoothed over with the usual excuse. Kal had been getting him out of tight spots for years. Tonight would be no different and his heart melted just a _bit_ more when Liv didn’t fight him at all. Just nodded with a sage wisdom because she understood exactly how important the dog was to him.

He had to _go._

He promised her a proper after, in the morning, and pressed a kiss to her lips. At the door Henry glanced back to see Liv sprawl face down on the edge of the bed. Her hair was a mess and her lips were swollen from his ministrations. She looked sated and happy.

He kept his feet from turning back towards the bed and instead headed out to the hallway.

While getting an Uber was probably the smartest move, Henry opted to walk. The night air was cooler than when they’d disappeared into her hotel and he used the fifteen minutes to organize his thoughts. Tonight had gone swimmingly, as well as he’d hoped it would and then some. 

Liv was a firecracker in bed, perfectly responsive. And taking control like that . . . riding him into oblivion? He threw his head back, pulling in a sharp lungful of air to settle himself. He’d be thinking about that imagery for a very _very_ long time.

He grinned. It had been a good night.

Kal was asleep when he opened the door to his suite. Kylie had left a timed note the last time she’d taken him out for the night. 11:34. Right about when he’d had his face buried in Liv’s-

“Come on, mate. Let’s get some sleep. We still have to work out in the morning.”

The Akita was disgruntled but trailed along after Henry towards the bathroom. He had to shower; Liv’s scent had seemed to permeate his very being and it would have just distracted him. Instead he washed the evidence of their passion away before curling beneath clean white sheets.

Life was funny and Henry was yet again in a bed that was not his own. He was in a foreign bed in a foreign land and there wasn’t another place on the entire planet he’d rather be. Other than with Liv, a short walk away.

His last thought before he passed out was that he could just bring the dog and go right back over there.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Henry jerked away from a dreamless sleep to a pounding at his door. He was tense at the sudden noise, ready for battle, when Kylie’s voice drifted through to his ears, telling him he was late. He cursed softly and rolled to check his phone. Shit. It was almost 6; he was supposed to be in the lobby fifteen minutes ago.

He pulled on sweats on the way to the door, opening it up for Kylie and waving her in. She looked amused at his state and he shook his head to discourage questions.

He knew how he must look, all disheveled and freshly woken. Kylie had seen worse but she’d known exactly where he’d been the night before. Which meant she knew exactly why he wasn’t able to properly focus. Why he turned and accidently shoulder checked the doorframe on his way to the bathroom. The blonde’s almost bitter laughter followed him and he groused, but only for a moment.

He was smirking when he took a second to appraise his face. Smirking with a light in his eyes he hadn’t seen in a while. Happiness? No, not quite. He looked _giddy_. Henry laughed at himself and began his morning ablutions. 

Kylie didn’t comment on his shit eating grin when he finally appeared for their morning run, preferring to grunt at him unhappily before ushering everyone outside. Her brows drawn, Kylie’s mind was clearly somewhere other than their footfalls through the city. If it had been any other morning he’d at least ask her about her evening to check in but every time he opened his mouth to ask her a question, he was drawn short by a memory of Liv.

Not even six hours prior she’d dug her nails into his chest and ridden him to completion.

He stumbled, his toe not coming up quite enough. Kal gave Henry a miffed expression at the unexpected jerk on the dog’s lead while Kylie almost hurdled a bench to avoid the trash can he’d forced her towards. 

She shoved at his shoulder, huffing in indignation. “Focus, Cavill, or I’m going to leave you to die. Right here.” Henry had to double check that he wasn’t actually running with _Rachel_ because that barb was a little sharper than what Kylie usually dealt.

Kylie must have realized she was edging very close to inappropriate with her tone, if the guilty flush on her face was any indication. He waited for her to ground out an apology but she remained silent. 

Something had happened the night before. And he wasn’t just talking about his bedroom gymnastics.

“Kylie.” She ignored him, pushing a little harder and pulling ahead of him. He added that extra bit of pep in his step to catch back up. She was resolutely ignoring him now. “Hey, wait.” It wasn’t fair; Kylie had a runner’s physique and made it look easy as she sped up to almost sprinting.

She looked like she was fleeing.

What the fuck had happened? It had to have been Rachel. Rachel, who he owed an immense debt of gratitude but had clearly not listened to his warning. Henry caught Kylie’s elbow right as she was about to dart into the street to get away from him.

She jerked her arm away, a disgruntled growl causing him to drop his hand immediately. She looked furious. “What the fuck is going on?”

For a moment it looked like she was going to bolt again but she knew exactly how much he hated when people were dismissive with him. If he was asking about it, he wanted to know about it. She stilled and he could finally see the pain in her eyes. 

Yeah. Fucking Rachel.

“It’s . . . not that important, Henry. I promise. Just- I got used to talking to Rachel again after these months and I thought we were getting back on the same page but she’s not-,” Her hands pulled at her ponytail and she started pacing again. He was going to bury that fucking publicist. “I don’t love her anymore but it’s so easy to see how I’d try and fit her into my life, you know? How I could love her, so easily. But she doesn’t want that.” Kylie’s words were bitter.

Henry blinked down at his PA. He knew that feeling intimately from years of failed relationships and that hope of _maybe this time_ it’d be different. He’d also been spending an almost unhealthy amount of time in his day-to-day trying to figure out if he could fit his own Canadian into his lifestyle. He didn’t _love_ Liv Orton. But he probably could. Very easily. 

“Did she say something dumb again?” He needed to refocus on Kylie because his thoughts on Liv were getting a little too serious. 

Kylie stopped her pacing, finally, when Kal sat in front of her. The Akita was unnaturally good at picking up anxiety and he’d decided she needed to calm down. Kylie dropped to a knee and nuzzled Kal. Henry hadn’t meant to train his dog as an emotional support animal but it sure had happened anyway. There were days when Kal was the only thing that got him through to the other side.

“Kylie?” 

His PA looked up at him. She didn’t look so furious, rather more resigned. “It’s fine. Seriously. Let’s just finish up so you can get back to your girl. You’re probably dying on the inside having to hang out with me this morning.” Now she slid him a cheeky side grin and Henry groaned. He was kind of dying on the inside.

This conversation was far from over but he was willing to put it on hold if Kylie was feeling better. She tossed her hair and stood. Maybe not better, but certainly more like her normal self. 

-!-!-!-!-!-

The morning light filtering in through the shades case the two of them in a soft haze and Henry was having a hard time not drifting off a the sight of Liv in bed next to him. She was a little grumpy that his dog wasn’t letting her get the morning delight she clearly wanted but was still alittle enamoured at the pooch’s loyalty to his owner. Henry could see it in the scrunch of her nose every time Kal peeked up at them.

Henry was subconsciously drawing closer every time he saw it, wishing she’d look at him with that same fondness. She given him a couple of glances but nothing so sweet as what Kal was getting.

  
He wasn’t jealous of his dog.

And Liv was asking him all sorts of silly questions. She was doing that thing again where she hadn’t really done much research on him and so wanted to know _everything_. She was letting him answer questions, not knowing that he’d given these answers a hundred times. He watched the soft joy of discovery settle onto her face, a little bit of wonder and a whole lot of pleasure. She was enjoying this Q&A. He was enjoying it too, almost as much as he enjoyed the feel of her folded into his arms. 

They’d been wrapped around each other for _hours,_ whispering secrets under the covers. This intimacy of the moment was doing funny things to his breathing even when she shared stuff he already knew. Even when Kal’s judgmental eyes peaked up at them when things got a little too hot and heavy.

He probably should have left the dog in his own room.

It was still really glorious to see this amazing creature loving on his best friend though. He’d wanted to know how Liv would take Kal’s omnipresence in his life and she was handling it beautifully. That realization also did strange things to Henry’s heart. 

He was overwhelmed, he discovered. Liv had ended up being a perfect mix of sweet and sexy, nerdy and needy in his arms. When she proclaimed that it was time to get out of bed, she’d still rubbed right up against him in blatant invitation. He took her up on the offer, pulling her under his body and burying his face in her neck again. Her floral scent was still there but it was sleepier here in the morning light. Lazy and slow. Henry shuddered when she arched her back.

“I- I have to say. I’ve never been cock blocked by a dog before and I don’t think I like it.”

Henry raised her head and stared down at her serious expression. He had to laugh because yeah. Kal was a bit of a cock block but the dog was just protective. Her eyes fluttered when he nuzzled up against her temple, ignoring all of her protests. She was too tempting, spread under him like this. They were rapidly approaching full fucking territory when Liv jerked in his arms and let out a sharp shriek.

Fuck. His dog really _had_ bit her. Of all the- Henry was moments from locking the dog in the bathroom when Liv fell into a cascade of giggles. Well, at least she wasn’t upset. Actually, she was taking Kal’s over protectiveness in stride and Henry grinned. _Interesting_.

He let her talk him out of bed and into his clothes. Breakfast was a good idea; dropping the dog at his suite was also key so they didn’t draw too much attention. He snagged her fingers as they hit the street and he felt like a kid on his first date. Liv’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink when he pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist and he grinned.

-!-!-!-!-!-

Henry wasn’t even sure how or why Kylie had managed to get him into _another_ press engagement when he was, rightfully, on vacation. Kylie was totally prepared for the inevitability, as usual. She’d put together a pamphlet of talking points on _Witcher_ and had pressed it into his hands minutes before he was supposed to meet with a _reporter._

At least it was for _PC Gamer_. He’d had a subscription since he was twenty, living in LA and bored out of his mind. Those dumb little trial game discs had been a major moral boost when he’d been waiting for his breakthrough.

As such, he’d wanted to give them carte blanche if they ever came calling. And call they did. Henry had already been sitting for an hour by the time Kylie had signaled the reporter to wrap up their questions.

The reporter gave Henry a sharp smile, asking his last question with a tease in his voice. “So. I gotta ask. Why did you come down to Dragon Con? Because there’s a rumor you came to meet up with your new favorite author.”

Henry gave a resigned smile. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe he’d escape notice at such a large convention and he’d known what he was implying with his photos at Liv’s panel yesterday. But he wasn’t quite ready to share this development with the world. And especially not with a gaming magazine.

“You know, I’m just here to support fellow artists and start the early buzz for _The Witcher_. I think everyone who’s a fan of the games wants the screen adaptation to be as faithful as possible and I want to reassure everyone I’ll do my best.” It was a good deflection, he thought. The reporter didn’t look particularly convinced but had the good graces not to push any harder.

He felt like he’d escaped the guillotine for some reason when he shook the reporter’s hand and headed out. At least Kylie looked pleased when they rode the elevator back to the lobby at the Sheraton. “No more press, I promise, but Sal sent along the request while you were occupied this morning and usually that’s okay with you.”

He must have looked irritated if Kylie was making excuses for setting up the interview. Henry glanced at her, noting that she looked a lot better. At least more normal, like she’d gotten a nap and a long shower and maybe even an apology from Rachel. He was relieved. This weekend was going to be magical for him on a few very specific levels. He’d be distracted if Kylie wasn’t also enjoying herself.

“We both know I don’t get proper vacations, Kylie. It’s fine.” Sadly, it was the truth. He could carve out time for himself when needed but he would get a call Christmas Day if it was important enough. And he’d take that call without a second thought, the weight of too many years on the edge of success ever present in the back of his mind. “Is there anything else you or Sal has dug up?” 

Eyes glued to her phone, Kylie hummed. “Well. Sal got requests from a couple other rags but we didn’t think you’d be interested.” That was good enough for Henry. He checked the time and noted that Liv would be pretty firmly entrenched in the Gearbox panel she’d been excited about. He could join her, but first he’d have to change. He off-handedly thought he should have brought that _Scream_ mask this weekend too. It’d worked wonders in Las Vegas.

Maybe Kylie would go fetch him one-

He pulled up short, realizing that she’d stopped a few feet back. When he turned to check on her he saw a shy yet insanely pleased smile bloom on her face. Shit. He knew that expression. He’d been making it that morning. “Rachel?” She jerked at his question and had the audacity to look confused. Like they both weren’t entirely aware of what was going to happen between those two. Again.

Or the inevitable hurt that would follow. At least it wouldn’t be a surprise this time. He spared a thought for Liv; they were very much so in the early honeymoon stage. God willing they’d stay there for the weekend and then come Sunday they could . . .

What? They could what? Rachel had mentioned Liv needed to be in NYC and he was off to Cannes next. But that was just this week. Henry had loads of free time before he needed to report for full pre-production. He’d follow Liv across North America if she’d let him. She was still working on edits too; maybe she’d enjoy a quiet cabin at the edge of civilization. That worked just fine for him. All he needed was a gym and 5000 calories a day. Literally everything else was negotiable.

He made a mental note to talk about a post-France mini-get away later that evening. For now, Liv hadn’t texted and Kal could use a nice, long walk. Maybe get a workout. Just a light one, though, since he expected he’d be getting a different sort of work out later.

-!-!-!-!-!-

Later did, indeed, include a fantastic work out. Naked. Twice with an encore in the shower that Henry’s legs were still shaking from. He should _always_ surprise beautiful women in the hall outside their hotel rooms in Atlanta. That much he knew for certain.

His eyes traced the curve of Liv’s back as she went to get dressed. She should also never be required to wear clothes. Perhaps he could just . . . _hire her_ to write him fabulous stories. Then she’d never have to leave his bed. He could spend hours making her scream with his tongue and his fingers. 

The scent of her still lingered in the scruff he’d allowed to grow on his face. 

She had looked beautiful when her mouth was gasping his name, when his tongue was deconstructing her very being. _Hen._ The syllable bounced around in his head and he shifted under her sheets. He’d been at half mast while he’d been going down on her and now he was growing harder. If he didn’t leave he was going to ravish her and make her even later for her meeting with Rachel.

She pulled a slip of dark blue from her suitcase along with underwear. It almost felt like cheating, watching her get dressed. It felt like he was seeing a present he was soon to unwrap as it was hidden from his sight. His cock throbbed in anticipation and Henry stood. 

He stood and grabbed his boxers, if only to contain his unruly erection. The rest of his clothes followed with stiff, mechanical motion. He _had_ to leave or he was going to take her apart all over again, stupid inconsiderate Rachel be damned.

Stupid responsible need to fulfill job requirements be damned too.

Henry had more than enough money. They didn’t need to work. He could squirrel them away for years-

Liv looked disappointed when she’d realized he’d dressed but had understood his reasoning. Her eyes were soft, _(loving),_ when he pressed a farewell kiss to her lips. He wondered if she could see the naked affection in his own gaze and he practically fled the room to avoid detection.

_Fuck._

He couldn’t be in love. Not yet. It was still lust.

It had to be lust.

The weight of realization was almost bitter in the pit of his stomach and he swallowed down the sensation. Just lust. He was fine. Everything was fine.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This sucked writing the second time as well, just so everyone is aware. Everyone needs a god damn hug.

Henry had a phenomenal workout, going through the set of exercises he’d penned in with his trainer the last time he’d been in LA. The last push up to filming was always one of the hardest but he was dedicated to the look. Geralt was a hulk and Henry would be too. He felt particularly swollen that evening, a combination of post-workout serotonin and the low thrum of pre-sex testosterone. Maybe it was post-sex. Sex-adjacent? He mentally shrugged and shut Kal into the suite as he closed the door behind him.

Whatever it was, it put a pep in his step as he headed downstairs to order dinner.

He stopped by the front door and kindly asked the doorman to send Liv his way when she arrived. With a flash of her picture and twenty bucks Henry was positive she’d show up before long.

A grin spread across his face as he recognized the blond head of one Chris Evans hunched over his phone at the bar. Standing all alone, the American looked a little rough around the edges in his faded shirt, jeans, and NASA ball cap. Henry knew the disguise and the posture well, having spent more than his fair share of evenings searching for alone time in a hotel bar.

On a weekend like this though, Evans was just asking for a stalker fan.

He slid up next to the American and gestured for the bar keep. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” He intentionally muddled his accent, sliding easily into the recently vacated Syverson character. Chris’s eye twitched. Henry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Evans had to take a few moments to wipe the irritated scowl off his face and put his public smile on.

Henry kept the laugh in long enough for Evans to realize he was being fucked with before he threw his head back. It had been too easy and too _good_ watching that frustration at being interrupted. Another feeling Henry was familiar with.

“You _fucker_.” Evans looked like he wanted to give Henry a shove and the Brit leaned away from his hand. “I’m so people-d out.” The blonde’s sigh was a lot heavier than Henry would have expected and he tilted his head curiously. 

“Bad day?”

“I have seen some shit today. But, give me a second.” Evans stood, pushing an empty glass to join two others. “I need to hit the head.” 

Henry took the time to get dinner ordered, to go. He wanted Liv alone, wrapped in a blanket on a couch as soon as humanly possible. He felt a hand clamp on his shoulder and nodded at Evans as he rejoined him. “So. Bad day?” He may as well spend the time chatting until the food arrived.

“Oh god.” Evans buried his face in his palms. “I had this fan at the signing that wanted to talk about pizza. He was _really_ adamant that he made pizza as well as Leone’s and I could only smile and nod.” Henry cocked an eyebrow, not getting the reference. Evans waved his confusion away. “It’s a thing, it doesn’t matter. It’s just, this guy spent $80 to tell me how good his pizza was. I don’t know if he thought he’d impress me or . . . fuck I don’t know. And then he went on this diatribe about how I’d once said that I didn’t like mushrooms and I was just...baffled. I don’t remember mushrooms _ever_ coming up but at this point I just have to accept that I must have said something once. I’m just glad he was harmless.”

Harmless was good. Henry had met a few _fans_ that hadn’t felt harmless and he was sure Evans had too. People who knew stuff that he was sure he hadn’t shared online. But the internet was weird like that. It wasn’t all that difficult to find out stuff about a person, especially when you kind of grew up online. Chris was just that edge of too old to have remembered the good old days but Henry certainly remembered. He’d had a LiveJournal, and then DeadJournal, and then MySpace, and then he’d landed a couple of roles and had buried most of it because there were some things the world didn’t need to see.

His lame attempts at trying to write being one of them.

But Chris would have missed all that and he certainly wouldn’t know that everyone leaves little bits of themselves, a trail that has hints of the truth but never the full view.

He realized that’s what he’d gotten from Liv before yesterday. A hint of who she was: kind and compassionate, yes. Nerdy, for sure. But he hadn’t seen her sharp wit or the soft way she melted when he was making her cum. Nor did the internet describe the exact shade of aqua her eyes turned when she was deeply invested in conversation.

That fan had asked Chris a real odd question but really, it was like asking him if he liked baseball or football. Superficial. What he’d learned about Liv and what he’d shared with her since they’d met felt bone deep and heavy.

He was staring off in the distance while Evans was bearing his soul and the American cuffed him gently on the shoulder for it. “Man, I don’t think I have _ever_ seen you look, like, truly happy before. You can’t keep that dumb smile off your face.” If Chris had hoped to embarrass Henry he’d failed as the Brit smiled even wider.

“Liv is something else, that’s all.”

“The author, right? Looks like you did end up with plans last night.”

Henry didn’t kiss and tell. Instead he took a sip of the water that had appeared at his elbow and grinned again. “Maybe I’ll get a chance to meet her this weekend.”

“Maybe. She’s, uh, already seen you though.” With a chuckle Henry recalled Liv’s run in with the buttress yesterday and the bruise that was getting darker every time he saw her. He filled Evans in on her clumsiness and they both got a good chuckle out of it. Chris himself had done plenty of stupid shit on set, much like Henry. It was a tragic byproduct of doing stunts: on the one hand the stunt crews kept the actors so controlled and protected that it would be impossible to get hurt. On the other hand, they were actors and it was an unspoken rule that they would push all the boundaries and find the one loophole in the safety precautions.

Evans was detailing a particularly embarrassing moment on his last set when movement at the door distracted Henry.

He grinned, recognizing the dark blue dress immediately. _Liv_. She’d taken the time to curl her hair after he’d left her and it framed her face in soft waves. Her subtle eye makeup was perfect and her lips curled up at the sight of him. She was breathtaking.

Literally.

He was by her side before he remembered oxygen was a thing that people needed to survive. He apparently also needed Liv.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Later, after the movie when he held Liv in his arms as she fell apart, and after he pulled her back together with kisses imbued with his belief that she’d be fine, Henry watched her sleep.

He’d unintentionally robbed himself of the pleasure of watching her sleep the night before and now he wanted to catalog every moment and sensation. Hopefully this would be the first of many nights spent in her arms, her skin hot on his where she was pressed hip to shoulder against his side. Henry usually ran warm and between the two of them he’d pulled only the thin top sheet up to her chin.

He raised a hand and delicately brushed a strand of hair away from her face. The skin around her eyes was just this side of puffy from her tears but she looked content and calm. That was good; he’d almost panicked himself when he realized what was happening in his bathroom earlier. It had been _years_ since he’d held someone like that and even now he was kicking himself for moving too fast. For touching her too soon before he knew she was ready for it.

There were dark nights he hoped to forget eventually, the little scars the past had left him with. Some moments, though, those scars helped to remind him of how to be a better person. How to be helpful and considerate. Henry didn’t have these full panic attacks but he’d guided others through them and he was immensely grateful he’d been there to help Liv. It was troubling, though, that she’d had the attack at all.

Her points earlier had all been valid but they were the considerations every new relationship had to navigate, weren’t they? What were they doing? Where were they going? He’d thought it was self explanatory but he obviously had done a poor job of explaining exactly _why_ he was here until he’d explicitly laid it out for her.

For some dumb reason he’d thought Rachel had told her, had told Liv that he was coming to see _her._ In hindsight the beautiful woman snuggled in his chest definitely hadn’t shown any kind of recognition that his presence was anything but serendipitous before tonight. 

He wasn’t sure she realized exactly how dedicated he was to seeing where this was going to go. And he was deeply invested. While he would never turn away anyone who was having an emotional meltdown if he could help he certainly wouldn’t go out of his way to comfort them by holding them close. Then going down on them.

She’d said the two of them weren’t real, what they were feeling wasn’t real. That had hurt. But it was fine. Everything would be fine. He’d explained himself and hadn’t chased her off, thank God. Tomorrow would be just one more day to show her how much he wanted to give her.

Henry drifted off to sleep with the same nerves he was still prone to the night before the principal shooting began. Like a soldier on the eve of battle, everything laid out and ready and just waiting for the right moment.

-!-!-!-!-!-

Not fifteen minutes after physically pushing Liv out of the door of his suite so she wouldn’t be late for her panel, someone was pounding at his door for entrance. Kal bolted up from his lap where he’d been getting pets during the morning news, and Henry followed.

Kylie brushed past him into the room, her phone banished like a weapon and a tight expression around her eyes. “Have you been online yet this morning?” He shook his head. He’d listened to some music while he’d been down in the gym and then Liv and now, the weather.

“Good. But . . . shit. Sit down.” He dropped to the couch obediently, not at all used to his PA being so agitated or forceful. Not for a long time. Not since his last girlfriend had dumped all those photos from their vacation on Twitter. The super inappropriate ones. 

“What’s happened? Kylie?” 

Her expression was guilty as hell when she finally stopped pacing. “TMZ ran a story early this morning that’s going to make its rounds, fast. A story about you and Liv.”

He cocked an eyebrow and waited for the other shoe to drop. TMZ was garbage, an absolute rag. But the fact that someone had picked up and reported on the fact that he was here? Not much of a surprise. He’d already talked about a couple of scenarios with Kylie and they had plans. They had plans but if she was worried then it was a scenario they hadn’t expected. He narrowed his eyes and pulled out his phone.

Months, possibly years, ago he’d set up a Google alert with his name. He tucked the notifications in a tertiary folder so he’d have to go looking if he wanted to see what the paps were saying but it was all right there.

Henry’s jaw dropped at the headline and the subsequent suggestion that he was some kind of . . . gigolo. That was certainly . . . new. And for ten grand? He scoffed, head shaking with the ridiculousness of the article’s suggestive nature. It was, as expected, garbage and it didn’t overly bother him.

But.

It was probably going to bother Liv.

She’d shown, on more than one occasion, that she wasn’t particularly interested in the limelight. She didn’t want reporters dogging her steps and she certainly hadn’t expected these kinds of articles to be published while she was in the middle of her workday. “Rachel?”

“She knows. She just texted me that she doesn’t think Liv’s seen it yet but she’ll talk to her after the panel. I’m so sorry, Henry. I thought with the way we’d transferred funds that it wouldn’t look like it came from her at all.”

He frowned. “Why would the _donation_ matter?” Surely it would be the suggestion that Liv had paid him to show up in Atlanta, to spend time with her. Lots of naked time.

Kylie didn’t answer him and he grabbed a hand, if only to keep her from wearing a rut on the carpet. She looked close to tears. “Kylie? What the fuck is going on?”

-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Things Henry Cavill had learned during his time in Atlanta so far:

  1. They had fantastic steakhouses here.
  2. The weather was pretty good. A little hot and kind of humid but not as bad as Florida. The sunshine was nice.
  3. Liv Orton was amazing and beautiful and everything he’d been building up in his head over the last few months. And way more.
  4. She’d been lied to and was now missing.



He couldn’t begin to imagine how or why Rachel had thought her scheme was a good idea. He was so _irritated_ by her unending machinations at the moment that he couldn’t talk to her. It would only end in him yelling about her constant immaturity and he had no desire for that kind of exchange.

It was bad enough _Kylie_ had gone off on a tangent when she’d realized Henry wasn’t mad at her. A tangent that had Rachel sobbing through the phone and Kylie locked in his guest bathroom.

He left his PA to figure out the mess she’d helped land them all in while he went on an adventure to find Liv, the truly innocent party in this whole clusterfuck. Somewhere in his wanderings he’d sent his agent, Sal, a message to _fix this._ Or, at the very least, get TMZ to print a retraction because honestly? That whole article was garbage.

Sal asked if he’d like to release the information that Liv had made a ‘donation’ in his name and Henry declined the suggestion. He wouldn’t do that, not until he talked to Liv and figured out what she wanted to do. This was the first real speed bump she had experienced because of him and he wanted to make it abundantly clear that they would do _whatever_ she needed.

She wasn’t in her hotel room, nor the hotel bar. She wasn’t at the hotel with her panel. He estimated it’d been almost three hours since her talk had ended. He stood on the corner of Congress and Peachtree and thought hard. With one last check at his own suite, going so far as to check all the rooms just in case she’d talked a key out of the front desk, he headed to the Marriott. 

When they’d been here, their first night, she’d mentioned that the rooftop pool had long been her favorite location in the city due to it’s relatively low traffic and the fact that they had the best vodka tonics in town.

His hunch was rewarded by a loose-limbed Liv hiding away in a lounger. He drew to a stop in front of her and waited for her to look up. His heart almost broke at the abject misery on her face when she looked up at him. He cursed TMZ and Rachel and Kylie and even himself for causing her pain like this. Completely unnecessary and cruel pain. 

Liv didn’t move, giving him such a steady look that he’d believe her sober if not for the empty glasses next to her chair. He sighed and took the incentive, asking her to move her legs with a tap. He frowned when she gave him just the barest sliver of the lounge but sat all the same. She was clearly very angry and he couldn’t blame her.

She was blameless at the end of the day. And he was the fool who’d started falling in love with a lie. But, it was like he’d realized with Evans. He’d known a small sliver of who she was, with that donation to Durrell. It had led him to seek more and he’d liked what he’d found. What did the original deception matter in the long run?

The silence ragged out for an uncomfortable amount of time and he let out another sigh. He detailed the steps that Sal was taking to have the article removed. He tried for a moment of flirtatious levity and the smile died on his face when she refused to engage. His heart clenched, warning bells sounding in the distance.

“Did Rachel pay you to come here?” She looked immeasurably vulnerable when she asked the question. If she hadn’t already been crying most of the afternoon he was fairly certain he’d have seen tears. It was in the corners of her eyes, a tightness he’d marked the night before.

His stomach dropped and he reached out to anchor her to him. “No. Fuck, no Liv. No one paid me to do anything, to come here.” His words failed to reach her and he pressed onwards. “You didn’t even pay me to begin with. That donation paid for the bat annex at Durrell and I loved that. That you’d be willing to do something selfless just so I’d read your books.”

Her laughter sounded hysterical and those warning bells grew louder. “I didn’t though.” She hadn’t made that donation. Rachel had. Kylie had told him as much earlier and now Liv was detailing how she hadn’t, wouldn’t ever, do something like that. It just wasn’t a _thing_ she could entertain.

Henry was losing her. He could see it in her expression and read it in the complete lack of reaction she had to his presence so close to her body. Where they’d had intimacy just that morning there was now a painful distance. Solutions. He needed solutions and he did the best thing he could think of. He pulled her into his arms and tried to recreate the comfort he’d offered the night before.

But even as his arms tightened he could feel the resistance. He could hear the pain and her betrayal at the whole situation. This really _really_ wasn’t her fault. It really wasn’t his either, but he was fairly certain he was about to pay for it.

He offered her options: more cuddles at the pool. Her room? His, with a side of Kal who could cheer even the most dismal mood? He kept the hopeful, almost desperate smile on his face as long as he could. “Liv- what do you need?”

He had _hope_ right until she pushed him back and met his eyes, tears _finally_ glittering in her own. “Nothing- I don’t need anything from you.” His grip loosened immediately, but he didn’t let go.

Those sirens were deafening now, warning of the impending doom bearing down on him. The sirens couldn’t stop one last effort to impart the importance of the last few days. “Liv, I _have_ to tell you-“

“Thank you, Henry. This was a pleasant fiction. For a little while.”

Henry’s heart stuttered to a standstill. It was almost cruel, using a quote from their favorite movie, to indicate the seriousness of her words. A pleasant fiction. He looked away, not at all willing to show Liv how bad this hurt. He nodded instead and let her slip from his arms. 

He felt cold without her but it wouldn’t be proper to argue. Not here, like this. He inhaled slowly, exhaled with an equally controlled measure, then looked down at her one last time. She looked resolute and he knew this really had all been a pleasant fiction, one that she wasn’t or wouldn’t make a reality.

“I . . .um. I’m really happy that we met. No matter the outcome. And you have my number. If you ever find yourself in-” Henry snapped his mouth shut before he could embarrass himself. The woman had given him her answer and he needed to accept it.

He didn’t have to like it but he did have to accept it. He kept his head down and refused to make eye contact on his way back to his room. He was going to pack his stuff and his dog and his equally heartbroken PA and get the fuck out of Atlanta. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This took far too long and I am so so sorry.

Early September 2018

Cannes.

Cannes was beautiful and Mediterranean and it was everything he loved about this part of the world. It was the perfect place to decompress after another successful press tour. A breather before he’d be throwing himself into the next project. They had done this after the six major projects Kylie had been with him. It wasn’t always Cannes, but if Kylie had her way it was always tropical and she always managed to get a tan.

On Saturday Henry spent a total of fifteen minutes stalking Liv’s social media to see how she was doing in NYC.

She looked tired. Immeasurably exhausted.

He left his phone in his room for the rest of the day and drank a whole bottle of red wine. Not only did it give him a brutal headache the next morning, but it also reminded him that his body wasn’t 100% his at that moment and he better take care of it.

He was _lonely_.

And heartbroken. Fuck - it hurt more than it should have. He felt almost foolish for allowing himself to fall this deeply but what had he expected? He’d mentally built a monument to a woman he didn’t really know.

Part of him, a month ago, had had this ridiculous day dream during a flight across Asia. In his head he’d played out a scenario where he’d show up in Atlanta and sweep Liv off her feet. She’d be overwhelmed by how handsome and rich he was and she’d fall all over herself to spend time with him. At the end of the con, she’d cancel her plans for wherever she’d be next and join him in France.

In the dozens of scenarios that he ran in his head, the variations subtle and exploratory, he’d upgraded his standard hotel suite to the honeymoon suite. Or rented whatever yacht was available and just squirreled away with her for a few days.

In his head Liv had been soft and sweet rounded edges, a little fuzzy because he couldn’t know back then exactly what kind of food she’d eat. He could fantasize all he wanted but he just couldn’t know how she’d react to anything and it had left him unsure. Unsure wasn’t a common feeling for him but it certainly wasn’t a foreign concept and Liv had made him . . . unsure. 

No wonder he’d been so nervous in Atlanta. 

No wonder it hurt so bad right at that moment, watching the sky from his balcony. He was awash in the dying light of the day, looking at the moored boats in the bay and he knew this vista would have taken her breath away.

Cannes was lonely for every conceivable reason Henry could conjure. He kept turning to one side or the other to tell Liv a little tid-bit about the area. But there was no Liv and he kept making himself look foolish in front of his equally heartbroken assistant.

Before everything had fallen apart, he’d created a memory of him and Liv - the two of them settled on a blanket on the Midway Beach with a bucket of ice, a bottle of champagne, and a plate of oysters to watch the sky darken to black.

Henry was lonely, Kylie was sad, and the two of them muddled their way through what should have been an amazing vacation. Cannes was a favorite for both of them but instead, they were haunted by beautiful Canadian women, both far removed from either.

Kylie had trusted Rachel once more and had her heart broken again but this time Henry had come along for the ride. Every night they’d been in France the two of them had shared dinner and ended it with the most decadent desserts they had available. Henry ran an extra couple of miles in the morning. Kylie got better at hiding her puffy, tear stained cheeks in the light of day. Neither of them felt relaxed when they finally returned home.

On Sunday, eight whole days after Atlanta, Henry and Kylie got on a plane bound for London. He desperately wanted his dog (currently being watched by Simon) and he wanted his bed. Kal would cuddle him without reservation and he longed to slide under the comforting heaviness of his weighted blanket, probably the best Christmas present his youngest brother had ever given him.

As the plane taxied and Henry moved to shut off his cellular data, a thought struck him. Surely Liv would be as miserable as he was. Just because she’d shattered any possible hope of him and her becoming them, didn’t mean he couldn’t still give a fuck about her. Right?

Rachel had her home address and Rachel owed him. Big time.

Two days back in the UK, Kylie was back at his house working on his schedule. Her eyes were flicking over her laptop and then she stilled. Henry’s eyes flicked to her face at her grumpy mew of displeasure and he instinctively drew his shoulders up. That particular sound was not his friend. “There’s another article about the two of you. Daily Mail put it out this morning.”

Henry didn’t even bother groaning. TMZ was American garbage. The Daily Mail was the British equivalent, but worse than garbage. It was like the refuse left over after a firm had worked over a street, post football match. He held out his hand for her laptop and scanned the page.

They’d done him worse but it was still rude to Liv. Liv who didn’t deserve any of this.

Liv who he still was hoping might forgive him. One day. After he’d forgiven himself.

“Can you . . . send her flowers? Make it anonymous. But, just- she really doesn’t deserve any of this.” He immediately went back to the script edits he was reading, pretending Kylie couldn’t see the vulnerability on his face.

He was a fool to think she wouldn’t catch it. “Are you sure you’re okay, Henry?”

Her tone more vulnerable than Henry was used to hearing, Kylie was asking herself the same thing. He gave her a blinding smile. “Yeah. I’m doing okay.” Even as he spoke the sharp pain of loss in his chest carved out the word liar on his ribs. He wasn’t really okay and his heart knew it.

A few days later he was neck deep in more scripts when his phone went off.

He grabbed it absentmindedly and glanced down. Then back to the script. And read a few lines before it sunk in.

He’d synched his US phone and his UK phone religiously since he’d gotten both of them and the message “Thank you” was sent from a number entered simply as ‘LO’.

Liv Orton.

Had texted him thank you at his UK number and it had to be for the flowers. What else had he possibly done in the days since he’d seen her last that would make her thank him?

Kylie. Kylie must have used his information when she’d bought the flowers and Liv, being her usual curious self, had tracked him down.

Henry wasn’t even mad at Kylie for defying his instructions and his finger itched. Damn the cost of an international call it itched to hit the green button. He was capable of hearing her voice, right then, and it would have been so easy to (re)connect.

Outside his house the sky darkened, while on the inside Henry stared at his phone for far longer than he should have but then he remembered he was a whole adult. A successful whole entire adult who had many fans and could make things happen just by asking. A photo popped up in his notifications, delayed from the text. The bouquet was beautiful. White lilies and a hint of red from the roses. The flowers were beautiful and Kylie had outdone herself. 

In the background the prairie was white with early snow and he could see for miles out past her kitchen window.

He sent along his apologies for the paps, the reason for the bouquet, and he hoped she understood how serious he was. He had never meant for any of this to happen. He’d been thinking about himself and all the wonderful things he could get up to with his new favorite author. He hadn’t . . . thought it out. Which was a shortcoming of his.

Liv texted him back and Henry spent the rest of the day (the rest of the week) in a haze of bliss.

He was supposed to be moving on from this strange infatuation. Supposed to being the key word. He wanted to tell her how his heart ached every time he saw The Vine Wars on his coffee table and how he kept meaning to put it back on the shelf with Congruous but his hand stilled whenever he’d reach for it.

He couldn’t move it and it stared back at him like a judgment.

Henry stopped texting her before he embarrassed himself any further than he already had.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!- 

Late September 2018

He bought a motorcycle to match the one in Florida. Which he definitely hadn’t driven across the United States despite the fact that he was secretly a sucker for road trips. The one he bought in the UK was beautiful. A silver Ducati now made his Bentley look like a bitch every time he opened the door to his garage.

He wasn’t compensating. For anything.

Henry had absolutely everything he needed.

In the back of his brain he did the calculations; it had been almost 4 weeks since Atlanta. Four weeks. Liv hadn’t texted him since he’d sent the flowers and he hadn’t texted either because he was busy. He was absolutely not constantly thinking about the way she would blush when he’d compliment her on something that wasn’t related to her book. The way her eyes fluttered when he bottomed out inside her. The sigh she’d made that last morning, rolling over to pull him tight before he could escape for his morning run.

Kylie hadn’t laughed at him about it once. Not yet. Kylie was still only vaguely looking at him and mostly pretending she hadn’t gotten her hopes up. Again.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

October 2018

September bled into October. It wasn’t a surprise, not with the way the leaves shifted from all green one day and then darker into the yellows and oranges of fall. They blew their way across Henry’s back lawn and if he was surprised by the passage of time it was only because he wasn’t usually home long enough to make note of the changing of the seasons. It had been a relatively long home spell: five weeks between coming back from Cannes before shipping out to Hungary.

He hadn’t been idle, by any stretch of the imagination, but as he packed the last of his winter sweaters for the extended stay on the Continent he wondered at how much he’d soaked in.

He’d spent the majority of his time since Atlanta doing one of three things:

1\. Thinking about Liv Orton and/or her fantasy novels

2\. Worrying about The Witcher and wondering if he’d be able to do Geralt justice

3\. NOT thinking about Liv Orton and/or her fantasy novels

Henry couldn’t even blame himself for numbers 1 and 3. He had known Liv was drawing to a close on the third book which he was practically salivating about. He could compartmentalize the Liv he’d started falling for and the Liv that wrote his current favorite story. It was possible. It wasn’t easy but it was possible.

He was booked on a flight to Budapest in just a few short days. Everything was ready and yet . . . when he got the notification on Instagram that Liv had posted, his heart soared. Because he knew what the announcement was about and it made him immeasurably happy that she had finished her book.

He wanted to send flowers once more. He decided against sending flowers again but did send a text. Sans photo, which was a shame because he could have just sent Kal. Kal fixed most of the awful problems in his life. He sent a text which sounded just this side of desperate and waited for her to message back. His heart skipped several very important beats until he was able to open the message and then he frowned.

L.O. (14:22): (: (: (: (: (:

That had been it. All that she had sent in response.

He was twelve again, trying to decipher what the cute girl in his class meant when she circled maybe on the note his best mate had passed her. He paced for a moment, nervous and a little awkward, unable to determine if that was a good string of smileys or a very bad string of smileys. He stilled at the sight of Kal watching him and set his phone down. It was fine. Everything was fine.

It would have been better if she sent nothing back at all.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

He tore through The Crimson Flag in record time. Just under 17 hours while shooting to finish a 500 page novel. 

He was pretty sure that two weeks into principle shooting, his new coworkers thought he was a bit mad. He’d cut himself off completely while reading and then had to take the requisite decompressing nap to compute what he’d read. And then, and only then, did he say anything that wasn’t strictly necessary to everyone. Henry had let it sit for a few days as normal, only confusing Liv’s world with his Witcher lines twice, before he started in on it again.

He took his time then, making notations as usual and marking the spots he needed to double check. He had noticed there was a tertiary character that reminded him of Kal and Henry himself had influenced at least two scenes. He was touched that she’d put him in there but it also stung a bit. She had put him in a book but couldn’t send him a text?

In retribution for being sort of ignored by his weekend fling he joined a bunch of fan groups on socials so he could at least get his fix of fandom wank. He had several sets of aliases, very August Walker CIA agent, and FurstWasFramed38 became a steady, if solitary, fixture of the community. On Tumblr he made a couple friends, had some really great debates, and was reminded why he had fallen in love with these books to begin with.

It wasn’t about Liv. It had never been about her in the beginning, just the joy of the world and the discovery of new lands. Just because she’d walked out on him didn’t mean he had to stop being the huge, gigantic nerd he was known the world over for.

Hungary was wonderful and wild and the days weren’t quite so lonely. Not so lonely because he was surrounded by people again and he had the usual suspects. Kylie was still in London, but hair and make-up were present. He was getting to know his cast mates too. Anya was amazing but so young sometimes in her experience that it was painful. She had no idea what was coming.

Much like another woman who’d hit fame and hadn’t been expecting it.

Henry drew up, full stop, to take a deep breath. He was running himself in circles with this nonsense. Kylie had called him out on being all mopey on more than one occasion. He let things slide with production more often than he should. He was, in general, wrong footed at all times and it was so phenomenally unlike him that Lauren pulled him aside to ask if everything was okay.

It was. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t right at that moment but it would be. Nothing was really interfering with his work so it shouldn’t be a concern. The show runner had given him a very common expression, the one she reserved for Henry when she found out he was pushing himself past the prescribed limits on set. “It might not be interfering right now but one day it will if it doesn’t get fixed.” In a gesture he was also learning meant it was time for business, she set her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow. “Now. Is it something we can fix here, in Hungary?”

He shook his head mutely. 

“Can it be solved during Christmas break? We’ll have almost nine days.”

He cocked his head and licked his lips. Theoretically, yes. He’d been waffling about this for far too long and he could, conceivably, try and track Liv down. To do what, he wasn’t sure, but he could try. 

Would she even want him to?

“Yes, possibly.”

Lauren hummed then did some mental math. “I feel like you’re pushing yourself too hard. We’ve got labor laws in this country, Cavill. If you need a couple extra days we’ll move some stuff around.” Her eyes stared him down, her meaning very clear. He hadn’t really worked with many show runners who would make a concession like that for the lead.

It felt odd. 

But he would take any opportunity he could.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Mid November

Joey caught him as he was in the middle of furiously typing a rant, hunched over his phone with his tongue stuck halfway out of his mouth. They were on a break from shooting Four Marks and both had fake blood smeared on their faces.

“I hope you’re writing my introduction for when you hand me my lifetime achievement award.” His joke was so ridiculous Henry didn’t even acknowledge it at first. His very first follow forever on tumblr, be-nice-to-birds, had put up a paragraphs long discourse on the use of magic as metaphor in the missing years between Wars and Flag and Henry was a hard same, as the kids were saying these days. He was finishing up his praise when Joey kicked him in the boot. It jerked his hand and he almost dropped his phone.

Henry wasn’t prone to anger but he didn’t like to be interrupted, particularly not when he was in the middle of discussing something he loved.

Joey took one look at his fierce reaction and then folded in half with laughter. He took a deep, wheezy breath and asked, “What are you even doing Henry? Are you talking about those books with the kids on the internet again?” Henry sighed at his friend and walked away, leaving Joey laughing on the ground.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

So it turned out be-nice-to-birds was a 20-something from Toronto named Audie. Reading that his new friend was from Canada (32 hours drive time from Liv his brain had helpfully supplied) had made Henry’s heart clench. Henry had then made a couple of off-handed comments in reblogs about Liv’s humor coming through in the books. Audie had made an off-handed comment about how Henry had no idea and talking with her was like having high tea with Ganno on a good day.

Which is exactly how Henry would have described Liv if anyone had bothered to ask him.

Audie shared a lot more after that. After a particularly revealing bit of information about her writing process, Henry actually debated telling Liv that her new assistant was talking about her online.

And how exactly would that have been received?

Know Liv, she’d probably appreciate the heads up but then Henry would have to admit that he was active in her fandom.

That smacked of an awkwardness he’d hoped to leave behind in his early twenties.

And how he wished he’d been completely successful but he couldn’t always be the suave and worldly gentleman. Sometimes he really was a weird human and he’d accepted that. What he didn’t want was Liv thinking he was still trying to keep track of her.

Even though he totally was.

Mostly he wanted to know how he’d crossed paths with Liv’s new assistant, who he could recognize from a mile away from the posts she shared on IG of their cross-country travels. It had to be another set-up, right? Kylie. Fucking Kylie or heaven forbid RACHEL had somehow tied herself back into his life.

Henry was absolutely not ready for Rachel being back in his life.

He sent Kylie a message. Had she set this up- with Audie? Getting him in touch with Liv’s new assistant somehow? Kylie Face Timed him immediately at the suggestion just so she could yell at him for being self absorbed. That made him blink a few times and he took in her general state of agitation. 

In the background, in her living room, there was a distinctly Rachel-shaped lump under the knitted throw he’d given her for Christmas the year before last. “Kylie! What the hell?”

The blonde colored immediately, realizing she’d inadvertently set herself up. She scrambled for privacy, closing herself in the bedroom, before addressing the problem of the Canadian in the other room. “We’ve been talking again. It’s good for grownups to talk, you know.” Well that was a pointed message. Many things would have been solved or avoided all together if he’d had the balls not to leave when Liv had dismissed him.

“So, what? You talk, she apologizes for being her usual conniving self, and then you let her move in?” 

His PA actually looked hurt at the suggestion. She let out a heavy sigh and collapsed on the edge of her bed. Henry was gutted; fuck. He hadn’t meant to actually upset her. “Rachel and I have a lot of history that neither of us are willing to let go of. If things hadn’t imploded in Atlanta, this probably would have happened anyway. So, things are sort of the way they should have been, you know?” 

“But she hurt you-”

Kylie shook her head. “No. Not really. She was upfront the whole time, I was just reading into things. Rachel was still trying to set up her client with my client so that they could both be happy. Because we knew her client and my client were stupid perfect for each other.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face and tilted his head back. This felt like a guilt trip. He didn’t want a guilt trip. “Sorry to ruin your plans, I guess. At least you got the girl, in the end.” He wasn’t bitter. He still had some hope floating around.

“Yeah, you still could too. Rachel said Liv will be in England for her last tour stop. London, to be specific.”

A frown creased his brow. 

“What is that look? I know that look; you’re scheming.”

He gave Kylie a smile and then bade her good night. There was no plan. He wasn’t scheming. Not him.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Early December

Because of his connections with the literary community in London, Henry was able to add Liv to the guest list for one of his very favorite yearly events: the British Fantasy Writers Guild gala. It was an opportunity for revelry and celebration, detailing the year in publications and lots of elbow rubbing.

Liv would absolutely be out of her element.

But, she’d be getting name-dropped on stage and that fact alone was enough to make her agent, Tony, begrudgingly accept the tickets on her behalf. The man had also faxed him a two page NDA saying Henry wouldn’t do anything to upset Liv.

Those papers had been painful to sign; it was the sort of macho posturing the industry desperately needed to move past. And yet, he’d been happy to put his name to paper and fax the affidavit back. Anything to see Liv again.

He’d asked, heart in his throat, if Liv would want to see him? He would stay in the background and avoid any direct interaction if necessary.

Her agent had been quiet for a long time. Longer than Henry was really comfortable with. Right when he was about to ask the question again, he heard the Canadian clear his throat. “I’m not going to tell you anything you can’t find out yourself. You’ve got enough connections. But . . . there’s a pre-DragonCon Liv and a post-DragonCon Liv and one is a lot quieter. And it’s not the one I met the first time around.” Tony had a twang Henry wasn’t expecting, but it felt like Sam Elliot was telling him not to fuck around with his daughter.

Henry had plans. None included messing around with Liv. At least not that way.

That would accomplish nothing.

Oh no. His plan was straightforward.

A handsome suit. Seats next to each other. Forcing her to see him stepping outside his world into hers. It was the sort of shit women lapped up but it was also exactly how he’d want her to show her dedication if their roles were reversed.

He resolutely refused to acknowledge that she hadn’t made any attempts to inquire about him.

That was moot.

Henry had a plan now.

And if it failed, he’d fall back on Plan B: tell her exactly how miserable he’d been and try not to cry in front of a crowd. It was a risk he needed to take: his desperate heartache wasn’t getting better. He needed something to close up and move past. Or open and water until it blossomed into the future he had always wanted.

Deep down, Liv still had to have feelings. She’d texted him first. She’d found him and texted him and that had to have meant something. She had to still be caught in the push and pull of them. Right?

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

December 21st

To wear a tux or not wear a tux? That was the pressing question of the late afternoon. Henry looked over his selections, debating the merits of both. His black tux would be a little tight; he hadn’t worn it for over a year but it was one of the nicest in his collection. The suit, a dark blue number with pinstripes, had been tailored to his current body shape and would definitely do all the things for his upper body a good suit should.

He smiled to himself, thinking of a lavender shirt sitting on a bed in Atlanta so many months ago. He should dig it out and wear it, if only to remind Liv of happier times. Simpler times when they were just two adults in a foreign city enjoying each other.

God, he hoped she would be happy to see him. It’d kill him if she shut him down.

He’d take it but he knew he’d crash and burn in the aftermath.

He was _nervous_.

Really nervous.

He shouldn’t have to be nervous. The plan was simple and relatively fool proof. He’d show up, wow her, corner her and convince her of all his feelings, and then they’d live happily ever after. Or until he had to go back to Hungary. One or the other. 

Because Henry would be damned if he was able to talk to Liv, apologize and explain exactly how much he needed her in his life, and not spend the next eight days tied up in her. 

He put the tux back, instinctively knowing that the suit was a better choice. It was more casual and also a more attractive cut. He needed to look as charming as he could. He really wanted to make himself as desirable as possible.

This would be his fifth year attending the awards dinner. It was a formal event certainly, but was a relatively small affair. He knew each of the other ten board members personally and had donated a fair amount of time and money, as much as he was able. 

If Liv turned him down he would forever remember this as the night that he truly embarrassed himself in front of a group of close acquaintances. 

At 6:05 on the dot, Kylie appeared. She had that freshly laid glow about her that made him roll his eyes. Rachel had been a constant presence in their weekly face chats and he knew that she was angling for a long term position in Kylie’s bed. Which meant Kylie was having sex on the regular while Henry wasn’t and he wasn’t bitter.

He wasn’t. 

If tonight went well . . . 

Kylie pursed her lips and shook her head. She was displeased. Her fingers came up and flicked at the collar of his plain white dress shirt. “You should wear the black chambray with that suit.” 

He gasped, taking a step back and holding a hand up in mock horror. “How dare you? This is my very favorite shirt.” Secretly he wished she’d been there thirty minutes earlier to help him with all the decisions. He was so wound around himself that he’d spent an embarrassingly long amount of time deciding if he should go commando or opt for the briefs.

Briefs had won in the end but a second opinion would have expedited the process.

Kylie turned him by his shoulders and gave him a gentle shove towards his bedroom. “Go, change. You’ve got plenty of time.”

Damn her, she was right and the butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t let him argue. When he came out of the bedroom, hair perfectly arranged and pocket square just so she let out a low whistle. “Now. That’s the dark and mysterious face that’ll inspire a thousand blog posts.” 

His countenance soured, which made Kylie laugh even more. “Oh, Romeo, you’re going to knock her dead.”

Twenty minutes later, they were zipping through the streets of London. Henry really loved his Bentley. The SUV handled like a gem and he was always a little gleeful when getting the chance to drive it. Tonight, though, he was cautious because he was . . . 

Nervous. The word sat sourly in the back of his throat.

“Henry, for the love of God, if you don’t stop driving like my grandmother we will be late.”

He slid Kylie a smile. “They won’t actually start without us so-“

She gave him a whack on his arm and huffed. He recoiled, laughing at her exasperation but more at ease with the joking. Tonight was his grand master plan; he could take his time. But, maybe he should pick it up. He would hate to actually delay anything.

The venue was beautiful and Henry was pleased to see there wasn’t actually any press waiting at the entrance. There usually wasn’t and he hadn’t really released anything recently enough to warrant their appearance but one could never really know. He guided Kylie inside and let out a breath at the beauty in the ballroom. Lights twinkled in every corner, shading the space in a warm yellow glow. A twelve piece string band held down one far corner and a sideboard the other. 

The space was already relatively full and he instinctively searched for a brunette head in the crowd. He had no idea of when she’d be there, only that she’d definitely RSVP’d. While he waited for Liv he may as well mingle.

Henry was twenty minutes into a Discworld discussion when Kylie appeared at his elbow. She excused him and then gave him a quarter turn. Towards the door. “She’s here. That skinny creature next to her is her assistant.” Henry froze. His eyes rose and the breath caught in his throat.

She certainly had arrived.

Henry was suddenly overcome with the desire to run. Run and hide away because this was a terrible idea. 

Liv’s bright eyes scanned the room and he turned away quickly so she wouldn’t see her face. Kylie turned as well, also hiding. “What the fuck, Cavill? Go and get her?”

He took a fortifying breath and shook his head. “I have plenty of time. I just . . . need a moment.” He glanced back and could feel a shiver run the length of his spine. He muttered something about slinky black dresses and the unfairness of life.

Kylie slapped his shoulder again and wandered away, seeing a few friends across the way.

The band started a gentle song and he let it settle the nerves in his stomach. The couple he was talking to were very nice and suitably distracted him. He tried to keep an eye on Liv as she moved around the room. As she made friends of her own and talked to people. He felt jealousy burn through him every time someone shook her hand. Anything someone made her laugh. She was right there and she looked so beautiful.

He must have lost track of time and Liv because when the announcer for the evening called everyone to their seats he was suitably distracted. He started, about to raise a hand to wave himself off of a conversation but he was caught. His hand was caught.

He frowned and glanced down at his wrist, finding it caught up in the very slinky, black, sequined dress he’d been salivating over for a while.

He laughed. He had to. Of all the ways to run into her again.

Later, when his nerves had finally settled and he’d drawn as much attention to himself that he meant to that evening, he sat next to a shifting Liv. Her scent was wrapped around him; light and floral notes that were making his head swim. She’d stared him down while he’d been on the podium and he could see it in her enchanted expression: she was still into him.

His hand rested on the table, fingers twitching to keep from reaching out towards her.

She was so close.

He should say something, lean over and whisper in her ear. Tell her how much he had missed her. Had thought about her smile on a sleepy morning. How she’d look wrapped in the sheets of his bed. How much he wanted to just to make her happy.

Just happy.

Audie muttered something under his breath and Henry turned to give him a look. The younger man met his eyes with a grin and a wink, nodding towards Liv. She looked almost mortified and now he was worried. That was the look of a woman that had been stuck somewhere she didn’t want to be. He started to doubt, then. 

Maybe this was just a really bad idea.

The official proceedings were drawing to an end. It felt the same as it had every year and he was starting to panic a bit. He’d miscalculated, if her tensed shoulders were any indication. As the crowd stood, Henry joined and hoped that he could somehow keep Liv with him. 

He just needed to talk to her.

He just needed . . . the clapping died down and Henry turned to pull Liv into a very needed conversation. The woman who had been sitting to his other side beat him to the punch. She put a hand on his arm and batted her eyes. Fuck. He could hear Liv’s chair slide back. He needed-

Audie.

Audie’s shout broke everyone’s concentration and he was finally able to turn and look back at Liv. She was ready to bolt. He grabbed her hand, needing to anchor her. Keep her close. She wasn’t allowed to leave.

Not yet.

He drew her close. He wasn’t going to let her go. Not again. With a deep breath and a frustrated groan, he laid it all out and hoped he wouldn’t cry.

Oddly enough.

It wasn’t him that ended up crying.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh. Oh no. The last chapter. Oh my heart! An epilogue is coming this week though. But then that's it.

The Bentley slid confidently along the quiet streets of London, the sleek exterior a poor representation of the awkward conversation going on in the car. Henry glanced at Liv every few minutes. The way the light played on her face, he couldn’t tell if she was upset or simply wasn’t making any expression at all.

He’d kissed her.

And _she’d kissed him back_.

His hands flexed on the steering wheel, remembering the soft skin on her neck and the feel of her heart beat under his palm. Henry had been desperate, biting out all the truths he hated to admit. But he’d needed to tell her. She had to know how much she meant to him because it was untenable she might have turned him down. 

She hadn’t. She’d kissed him back and had agreed to come back to his house.

His cast a furtive glance towards her one more time. They were getting closer to Kensington and he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d do once he got her there. He knew what he _wanted_ to do but he hadn’t lied when he’d said he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Her eyes were fixed on his face, a small smile flirting with the edges of her lips. “What?” He laughed a little awkwardly at her enchanted expression.

“You haven’t gotten any prettier.” She bit her lip, cheeks coloring at her joke and he laughed so suddenly that he almost drove off the road.

When he righted the course he released an incredulous gasp. “This is my very favorite suit. Everyone tells me I look dashing in it.”

Their light banter broke the anxiety in the car and they were both able to laugh. This was what he had missed most about her. They’d spent more time exchanging secrets than they had swapping spit and he was desperate to hear her speak more.

“Hey?” He coughed, his words suddenly catching in his throat. She grinned.

“Yeah?”

“You look gorgeous in that dress.”

Her cheeks tinged deeper and Henry felt himself slipping right back under the spell she’d woven almost an entire year before. He made his mind up then. He had flirted with the idea of _Liv_ in his day-to-day life. He’d had day dreams and many conversations in his head with her, cooking dinner together. In the shower. Arguing over laundry.

It wasn’t enough anymore to simply think about this woman in the abstract.

He was going to do his level best to convince her to stay for a long time. The resolution filled his spine with a confidence he’d cultivated over years of success. When she asked him why he was in London, his answer was snappy and sassy, just the way he knew she liked it. The rest of the drive passed too quickly for his liking but they got a few rough discussions out of the way. The ghost of her hand still lingered on his palm when he ushered her up the walk to his front door.

His home had been thoroughly cleaned the day before, preparation for his Christmas break but also in hope for the situation he found himself in now. Watching Liv say hello to Kal again made his heart clench. Others before Liv, the exs he liked to only remember fondly, hadn’t loved his dog the way he loved his dog. And Kal hadn’t taken to anyone who had stayed at the house quite as much as Kal like Liv. And there he went, dragging Liv off to the couch. It was Kal’s favorite trick when Henry came home after being away because it meant all the scratches. And probably some brushing.

Henry had no intention of brushing his dog. And that wasn’t a euphemism. Instead, he hung up his coat and rolled up the sleeves on the black silk shirt. He was still a little unsure, even as he’d mentally made his decision in regard to what he’d be doing with Liv. He was a persuasive man when he needed to be.

The question was is Liv was going to be receptive?

He had no way of being sure.

His footsteps were silent as he walked the hall in Liv’s wake, stopping by the fridge for a couple of bottles of water. Any normal hook-up he would have broken out the Lagavulin or the Dalwinnie depending on the woman. Neither for Liv, now that he thought about it. She’d be something fresh. Maybe Two Gingers. Crisp. 

Her laughter echoed out of the living room and he smiled before following the sound. Kal had knocked her onto the couch, as was his way, and it made him laugh. Liv glanced back at him, the laughing dying on her lips as she took in the sight of him.

No joke, there was something so primal and sexy about a woman who was struck speechless by his very arrival. It was _heady_. She wouldn’t be familiar with this version of him in person but he was this as much as he was a giant nerd. He was this suave, worldly man who knew what he wanted.

His steps were still silent as he approached. _Stalked_ would be a better word.

_He knew what he wanted._

And he wanted this beautiful, vibrant, clumsy woman. With her warm eyes and her clever fingers, composing symphonies on his skin just as surely as she crafted her stories on a keyboard. He wanted all of her and he told her as much. He watched her soften, word by word, as he laid out his heart once more. Before . . . before he’d been afraid, but now he was ready to go all in. He was ready to learn all her secrets, on her terms, and lay open all of his old wounds if she cared to know.

His strong hands plucked a tired foot up into his lap and he worked over her sore muscles as he tried to be concise with his words. He was going to push and he was going to demand: it was who he was. But he never wanted to hurt her. That was _not_ who Henry was and he needed to be perfectly clear that she understood that. “I’m sorry I pushed. Please keep telling me to stop if I cross a line. But, I want you to know that I’m looking forward to the day you are happy and willing to tell me any part of your life that I don’t know.” 

Liv bit her lip and looked down her body at him through hooded eyes. “Are you sure? For someone who doesn’t do much with herself I have a lot of baggage.” It was almost laughable, the concern she had. What kind of men had she dated before that couldn’t, or perhaps wouldn’t, let a woman unwrap herself in her own time? That was half the fun of dating someone.

“I’m positive. I can bench press a lot.” That finally got a laugh out of her and Henry knew he’d won her over. 

He gave her foot a gentle tug, pulling her farther down the couch. She laid spread out in her glory, that dress doing little to hide the cleavage he’d been desperate to get his hands and mouth on all night. Liv’s expression was cautious but dedicated. _Dedicated or horny?_ He slid a hand up her thigh, squeezing just _so_ right south of her panty line. She bit her lip again and there was a moan in there he intended to chase out before the end of the night many times. Liv’s hair curled delicately around her face, framing her in a dark halo, and he thought to himself he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

His heart beat a desperate tempo against the inside of his ribs and it robbed him of the ability to breathe. Liv stared up at him for a long time, her blue eyes locked on her in challenge and he swallowed hard against the wave of _love_ that crested above him. He leaned down quickly, a wild and desperate kiss pressing against her lips in benediction.

-!-!-!-!-!-!-!-

Consciousness drifted back to Henry slowly.

He was home. In bed. The warm light sand walls greeted him as he cracked his eyes and he smiled. Home.

There was movement next to him. He shifted, drawing the weight curled into his side closer. The sleep warmed body of Liv pressed tighter against his front and he bit back a deeply satisfied sigh. This was perfect. Her hair smelled of honey and her soft skin ran against him from clavicle to knees. She shifted her bum again, pressing tight up on his cock. It swelled in interest and he took a deep breath...

Took a deep breath and held his crotch away.

He was so very comfortable. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.

There _were_ a lot of mountains to climb for the two of them but nothing was insurmountable that could be seen. He could easily imagine the two of them in cohabitated bliss. Married bliss.

He covered his gasp at the thought with a yawn and Liv stirred in his arms. A desperate part of him didn’t want her to wake, preferring to spend his slow morning simply observing. It wasn’t to be. Her body stretched, that impossibly soft skin brushing against his body as she moved. Sunlight speckled her shoulders as she turned in his arms. Her nose brushed up against his jaw and she settled against his chest. They were silent for long moments and he wondered if she’d fallen asleep again.

“Hen.” Her voice was scratchy, lips barely moving against his clavicle. His lips found her forehead and then her brow line, pushing her face back to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“You were right. Last night.” 

He froze at the confession, his mind whirling through the rolodex of things he’d said the night before that he was right about. First off: he had never lied to her. He was right at the cusp of insane and all-encompassing love. The kind of desperate puppy love that’d keep them in bed for a long time. 

“When you said I was going to fall in love with you. You were right.” His heart clenched farther, if possible. Now, he leaned back entirely so he could look in her eyes. He found a determined truth staring back at him and it made him grin. His pleasure had him beaming from ear to ear blinding in the morning light.

He dipped his face and pressed a reverent kiss to her lips. She was everything in that moment. Every hope for the future: a respite after the long and painful days. Soft lips on his forehead to reassure him. Someone who would listen to all of his problems without judging him. 

_A family. Children . . . eventually._

She laughed into his mouth. Her fingers dug into the meat of his chest and forced him back far enough for him to look up at him. He didn’t want to go.

“If we keep doing this I will fall in love with you. You’re too . . . perfect not to.” Henry knew for a fact she was only saying that because she didn’t know him yet. Anyone who actually knew him knew he wasn’t perfect but for Liv he _wanted_ to be. Perhaps she would never need to know about all the dumb fucking things he’d done in the past.

Perhaps he’d tell her, the same way he hoped she’d one day tell him all about the reason(s) she’s always so careful with her heart. Her insistence that she wasn’t, or wouldn’t be, tied down. He wanted to know why he couldn’t praise her brothers and he wanted to detail the ways he’d never make her feel empty again. He’d never allow a repeat of the rift like the one they’d suffered the last few months.

Liv’s eyes sparkled as she stared up at him. Her body, still stretched against his, arched as she let out a breathy sigh. Henry brought a hand up to the back of her neck and cradled her head. ‘Henry?”

He swallowed, shifting so he could bring her gaze level with his. He didn’t dare blink. “Yeah?”

“Tell me about The Witcher? I’ve been really patient but I’m _dying_ to know how filming is going.” He dissolved into laughter, the serious moment he was sure she was forcing dissolving around them. She joined him in laughter. It was a sweeter sound than he deserved and he appreciated every second. Deeply and with every ounce of his being.

He nodded into her hair, trying to catch his breath enough to tell her all the things he’d been dying to share, NDA be damned. His lips found her temple again and he affected Geralt’s voice once more. “Evil is evil, Stregobor.” It was the first line he could think of and it sent her off on another giggle fest.

He’d recite dumb one liners all day if he could just keep her laughing.

Her hand came up to cup his jaw and Henry was struck once more by how soft and sweet she was. He didn’t deserve it and he figured they both knew that. When she kissed him he pulled her tight against his body, done with talking for the morning. His hand was working it’s way down the front of her panties when a sharp pain in his left toe had him jerking in shock.

Henry stared at Liv in shock, still processing the particular pain that had startled him. After a few moments his face slid into disapproval and he looked down to where Kal had two paws up on the end of the bed.

Liv gasped and drew away from him. “Oh God, Henry. I’m so sorry. He bit you, didn’t he? And I knew better; are you okay?” She sounded so honestly concerned.

Her concern was touching but ultimately unneeded. Henry kicked at the blankets at the end of the bed and hid his feet. 

He was familiar with the nip.

He knew exactly what was vexing the dog right at that moment and it wasn’t the beautiful, naked, tempting woman in his arms. Oh no. It was much simpler. “Don’t mind him.” Henry grinned even as Kal made a snapping sound at their feet. Liv drew her legs up, mildly alarmed.

“You say don’t mind him but I hear ‘he only bites when he’s hungry or you’re fucking his owner’ and right now I think I’m checking off both those boxes.”

Her concerned response drew another free laugh from his chest and he felt fit to burst with affection. Just seeing the concern on her face for his delicate toes and the tepid looks she was shooting Kal were enough to bury himself within her and not emerge for at least a week.

“Henry.”

“Liv?” He gave her a cheeky grin and she tweaked his chin in response. “Oh relax. He’s fine. Hungry, but fine.”

She sighed, looking a little less dubious. “If he’s hungry you should feed him.”

“And what if I’m very comfortable and don’t want to move?” He got her to move into him, his warmth a siren’s call and her feet a freezing fisherman.

He almost had her, the sleepy and sexy look in her face drawing him in ever closer. Another sharp nip at his toes, almost surgical through the thick blankets, had him cursing and glaring down at the end of the bed. Liv fell into another round of giggles and he felt betrayed. Between the two of them no one was at all concerned about his needs and wants.

“Kal! What the hell mate?’ 

The dog gave him a cheeky grin then moved to bite him again.

Henry sighed, rolling the covers of his body and tucked them around Liv’s prone figure. “I’m being called away, darling. Don’t go anywhere.”

Her grin was blinding, if half buried in his pillows.

_And wasn’t that a sight?_

She shifted, rolling to her stomach and making a suggestive thrusting motion with her hips. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

The _this time_ was implied but she meant it and he heard it loud and clear.

Henry whistled as he strode out of his room naked, anxious to feed his dog and return to the beautiful and willing woman in his bed. He’d tried to push her out of his mind and move on, but despite what his lips had swore in his darkest days, his heart had known the truth.

He was Liv’s and no amount of denial would ever change than fact.


End file.
